


A Doctor On Call

by Basmathgirl



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, Experimentation, F/M, Mind Control, Mutual Pining, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-25 06:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17719670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: When the Metacrisis Doctor cannot find everlasting love, he decides to do something about it scientifically in order to try and win the affection of Pete's World's version of Donna Noble.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** today Doctor Who, Pinky; tomorrow the world!!! Or not, as the case may be. So none of this is mine.  
>  **A/N:** I was encouraged to write a story with Chris from “Learners” by [tardis_mole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardis_mole/pseuds/tardis_mole), way back in 2012, but this was the only way I could think to do so. Thanks to a nudge from [Shivver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shivver/pseuds/Shivver). this is the revised edit of that.

The voice on the answer machine sounded brutally honest, and once again Chris was relieved that he had not personally taken the call.

“Hello, Christopher. It’s Ellie here. I thought about what you said last night, and it’s only fair to let you know that it’s me and not you. I like you but it doesn’t go deeper than that. Sorry for making it seem more. Hopefully we can still be friends. See ya!” And then the machine clicked off.

Chris sat on the stairs hugging his knees in self comfort whilst twiddling the St Christopher that hung around his neck; reminding him that he had felt loved at one time. Okay, it had been brief, but it existed in his memory; within his own, personal memory rather than someone else’s.

Why couldn’t anyone love him in this alternate universe? Why had everything gone wrong as soon as he had been left there on that Norwegian beach? Rose had kissed him back with enthusiasm but she’d soon run after the Doctor, and when they had got in the Zeppelin her interest had started to seriously wane.

All he could put it down to was the fact he had told her his plans to shave off the sideburns, tame his hair, get something different to wear when he sought out a job; somewhere nice like a library or a bank. In fact, she had been agog when he said it, now that he thought about it properly. Not that he had exactly fallen over himself to lavish her with attention. He’d been more interested in the machinery that drove the Zeppelin, how it was fabricated and the exact composition of the gases it contained. Stealing away to get a better look hadn’t been the right thing to do in those circumstances, he admitted that to himself. Perhaps he should have sat and held her hand all the time as they headed back to London; but he couldn’t do that. It felt wrong for him, and evidently it felt wrong for her, because they stopped pretending soon afterwards. Oh, he had clung onto that relationship far longer than was healthy; but Rose was right. They weren’t meant to be, and he wasn’t the man she wanted and vice versa.

Soon after he found himself dealing with the big wide open world and his need to find someone to share it with. His next choice had been Jennifer, but she had rejected him without a backward glance. Well, she was a supermodel in a magazine and he was just some bloke who had tried to contact her. His practical side knew it was a no-hoper.

When he started at his current office he met Ellie. After being ‘burnt’ by pretty girls, he decided to try someone a little more ‘homely’ and with less ideas about who was and wasn’t suitable. They had even been on a date or two. That’s if you can count buying lunch in Boots as a date before scurrying off to your own corner of the building.

What was it one of her friends had said? It was something about his clothing being a bit granddad-ish. The cheek! He wore practical clothing that did the job whilst washing well each time; thank you very much. Since when had he been a fashion victim? Striving for his own style, he had ditched the suit and gone for smart trousers and a light jacket. He had also gained himself a permanent pair of glasses because his eyesight was myopic at the best of times and he liked the college look it gave his face.

All in all, he thought he looked approachable, intelligent and a man of simple means. He had left dressing up like a peacock to others and his former self. People should be able to take him for what he was rather than what they expected him to be.

He mentally reasoned it out as he stirred his microwaved risotto, and then winced when he tasted it. Yuck! It was absolutely tasteless. Once again he wished that he had inherited some of Donna’s cooking skills, because his were seriously lacking.

Sweeping his gaze over his neat kitchen as he sat at the small table to eat his meal, he wondered if he would ever get to share a living space again. He had bought this property, a one bedroomed house, fairly recently. It had cost him an arm and a leg, but property prices in London had never been cheap. It had seemed like a good investment when he had viewed the show home of the brand new housing estate; not that he was overly interested in making money out of the place. He had viewed the large bedroom as having the potential to be divided up into a bedroom and nursery, should the need ever arise; ignoring for the time being the ardent wish that lay underneath that sort of thinking. Anyway, he liked where he lived, there were decent people living nearby, the city centre wasn’t too far away and nor was the river which often beckoned to him to walk along the bank when he was feeling particularly claustrophobic. Somehow the activity on the water always helped to calm him down.

With a large sigh, he picked up the evening paper and flicked through it. Not much caught his attention, although he made a mental note to watch certain shows or films as he did so. But one half-page advertisement captured his wandering gaze; it was for the local adult education college, offering all sorts of courses, including cookery classes and DIY skills. Hmm, now that looked interesting. He knew the theory but he was rubbish at the practise; and someone had said that evening classes were a good way to meet new people and make friends. Yes, this idea seemed to be getting better and better. The sign up date was the following Tuesday, saying that potential students could enrol after 4pm, giving him plenty of time to give it some thought before taking the plunge.

 

In the end it hadn’t taken him too long to make his decision. The cookery classes would be on a Thursday night and the Home Handyperson classes would be on Tuesdays. There was also the temptation of ballroom dancing classes, but they clashed with the cookery so he mentally pencilled that in for the next possible term. One step at a time, as they say…

That was how he found himself sitting at a classroom workbench the following Tuesday, keen to learn how to put up a shelf and decorate his house beyond keeping it clean. After a few minutes the class instructor, Mr Alan Wilkins, arrived so he didn’t even notice when the seat beside him was hastily taken until a large pink and fluffy pencil case appeared in his peripheral vision, a luminous pad of paper, and what could only be described as a fluorescent Tribble. As he turned his head his senses were assaulted by a waft of perfume that seemed strangely familiar, and then he saw her properly.

Flashing him a shy smile was Donna Noble.

He immediately smiled back and looked coyly away as he tried to recover from his shock. Taking in some huge, deep breathes; he risked peeking at her as Alan broke into his introductory speech. She was avidly taking notes as if her life depended on it; scribbling away with a pen that had a fancy hairy pen-topper. That explained what the Tribble was for. He had to clamp his hand over his mouth to stop himself from  
a) pointing out how daft she looked, and  
b) using her name when they hadn’t been introduced yet.  
Unfortunately she caught him, and gave him her patented glare-of-death. He wanted to laugh even more.

“Let’s have a quick word from everybody,” Alan suggested as he eyed his new pupils. “How about we start with the lady of the group?” he asked pointedly, staring at Donna.

She started immediately and dropped her pen on the bench top in a panic. “Who, me?! Well… I’m Donna Smith. Hello! I live on my own now, and I can’t even change a plug. It’s made all the worse because I work with all these techno geeks at Torchwood, so I thought it was about time I learned some of this stuff,” she stated for all the room to hear, and tried to smile her friendliest smile.

Chris was smiling encouragingly at Donna when he realised that Alan was now staring at him. “Oh! Hello! I’m Chris Noble. I recently bought my own small house and would like to make it look half decent. And I’m one of the techno geeks at Torchwood,” he added the last bit for Donna’s benefit, hoping it would work in his favour.

“So you’ve come here together from Torchwood. That’s nice,” Alan commented.

Chris had just opened his mouth to deny this when Donna spoke up. “We’re not together. Oh no. That’s not going to happen.”

He wanted to slap her one for that! ‘Not going to happen’? Why the hell did she say that about him to everyone? Good grief!

By this time Alan had moved on to someone else, and Chris sat there with bright pink cheeks, trying to rein in his humiliation. Then there was a tender touch on his arm.

“I’m sorry,” Donna whispered to him. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Can I make it up to you by buying you a coffee during coffee break?”

How could he refuse such an offer; especially when she was looking at him so sadly? “That’s okay, honest; but a coffee would be nice. Thank you,” he answered; and returned his attention to the introductions being made.

There were a dozen people in the group, making it small and intimate; and Chris found himself growing more excited at having met this universe’s Donna. True to her word, she had bought him a coffee and he had politely drunk it, thanks to the practise he had been having at Torchwood. His preference would remain as tea, but coffee was gradually ingratiating itself with him.

“I noticed no ring; are you recently divorced?” he asked her as they sat sipping their coffees.

She shook her head. “No, widowed,” she explained, and pulled a face. “Not that he didn’t save me a load of paperwork by getting himself taken by the Cybermen. He’d been playing around, you see.”

“I’m sorry,” Chris immediately sympathised. “I lived with my ex-girlfriend’s family after I lost my parents, and I’ve just bought my first place. It’s strange being suddenly on your own, isn’t it?”

Donna readily agreed. “Were you with her long?”

He thought carefully about that. “Sort of two years, then we parted, and we got back together recently but it didn’t work out,” he admitted. “She did the whole ‘it’s not you it’s me’ talk.”

She winced in sympathy. “I know that one all too well. It’s never easy to hear that one,” she said and placed a consoling hand momentarily on his arm before whipping it self-consciously away. “You’ll find someone else. There’s bound to be another girl out there for you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed without much conviction. “What about you? Are you going to look for another husband?”

“I don’t think I’ll bother,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “Perhaps I’ll get a dog instead.”

Any further conversation was halted when another member of the group approached them and started to chat to Donna, obviously thinking they were in with a chance. Chris slunk away and left them to it. He really wasn’t feeling up to playing that sort of possessive game and he had no claim to stake anyway.

Feeling quite despondent, Chris tried to console himself with the thought that he would hopefully find a female friend at the cookery class. Well, he did until he entered the cookery room and found as many men as there were women.

Damn TV chefs!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I thought I'd post two chapters at once. Hopefully you don't mind too much.  
>  **AN2:** the "Learners" screencap of Chris was provided by [beachy_geek](http://beachy-geek.livejournal.com).

It was only when someone hastily pulled away their stuff to clear a space that Chris realised he was being invited to sit down next to someone, and that someone was Donna. “Hello,” he eagerly said as he sat himself down next to her. “We meet again.”

“Hello,” she responded with a smile. “Are you following me by any chance?”

He laughed. “I could ask the same question.”

Her eyes twinkled merrily back at him. “No, but we seem to be thrown together; as if it’s fate or something.”

“In that case the coffees are on me this time,” he half whispered as their teacher, Mrs Delores Carlton, arrived.

She was a diminutive woman with a stern manner and the hint of a Brummy accent. As before, introductions were forced out of them; and as before the assumption that Chris and Donna had gone there together was made. But this time Donna let Chris voice the denial; and he beamed at her, feeling their potential friendship grow.

“So what do you do exactly in Torchwood?” Donna asked him when they grabbed a coffee from the canteen later.

“Erm…,” Chris mused as he tried to word it correctly. “I’m in Research, trying to make the company some future millions by coming up with new technology. I’ve got my own lab, which is pretty cool.”

“I work for Mr Tyler’s PA,” Donna supplied. “I thought your name seemed familiar. I’ve dealt with some of your reports.”

Chris blushed as he found himself unable to look directly at her. “Sorry about that; I hate filling out reports, and you’ve probably noticed that I leave them until the last minute.”

She chuckled knowingly. “Yes, I had noticed. But we’d better stop talking shop. Why are you here? Surely you’ve cooked before?”

Chris shook his head. “Not really; there’s always been someone else to cook meals for me. I’ve done the odd sandwich, and I’m a dab hand at things on toast, plus nobody can open a tin can like me,” he pretended to boast. It got the laugh he wanted.

“I can do basic stuff but I wanted to improve my skills,” she told him. “I’m sure there are loads I can learn here.”

“Just be prepared to take over when I totally mess it up,” he warned her. “I haven’t caught the water on fire yet, but there’s a first time for everything.”

They laughed together at his feeble joke, and for the first time in ages he felt he could properly fit in this alternate universe.

 

Their friendship gently grew from there. Of course Donna took a sneak peek at Chris’s Torchwood file to make sure he was okay first. Well, a woman can never be too careful. Thanks to this she was now certainly aware of his qualifications, his pay, and his potential as a possible husband… should she be only that way inclined, which she wasn’t, if anyone was asking. She was, however, looking for a friend more than anything else, and valued his company above anything else; she told herself. But the data on Chris made his situation seem really sad since he had no family to speak of at all. Donna resolved to not mention this fact until he volunteered the information.

The first time they met outside the classroom and away from the other students was to give Donna moral support when she tackled putting up a curtain pole in her spare bedroom. Chris had tried to keep well back, adding in little reminders as she fumbled with the cordless hammer drill, holding a masonry bit, she had treated herself to, and then the spirit level; but inevitably he ended up holding the pole in place while she marked out the wall. It really helped to be tall at times.

Donna had wavered dangerously on a footstool, so it was only polite for him to hold her in place while she drilled into the brickwork. Then he handed her a rawlplug to hammer in before screwing the first pole holder loosely in place so that she could work out where to put the second curtain pole holder.

“Hands!” she yelled at him when his protectiveness got far too close for comfort as her thigh was accidentally touched. Chris had fought down his embarrassment in order to stay in place so that she wouldn’t fall.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I was erm… I was only trying to….”

“We’ll have less of the trying and more of the helping, if it’s all the same to you,” she blustered in reply, almost equally mortified at her reaction and for shouting at him.

“Yeah, we can’t have you falling for me,” he feebly joked. It worked to break the tension between them.

Fortunately, they’d had a good giggle as they did all this, and were pleasantly surprised by the end result. “What do you think?” she hesitantly asked when they had finished putting up the curtains and tested their ability to open and close properly.

“I think you can be very proud of your first go at putting up a curtain pole,” he enthused. “Alan will be proud of you. Congratulations.”

“Thank you!” she cried as she threw her arms around him for a hug. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Of course you could. You’re brilliant,” he told her sincerely as they released each other. “Now what about this cup of tea you were going to bribe me with?”

She swatted playfully at his arm. “Watch it, mister; or you’ll only get the Rich Tea biscuits,” she threatened. “Now what will you do in order to get a chocolate digestive?”

“I see… bribery and corruption now,” he teased. “In that case I’ll have to find something for you to help me with.”

“Bring it on, techno geek,” she challenged him. “I still can’t believe you’ve never put up a shelf.”

“I know the theory,” he defended himself; perhaps a little too much in the circumstances, because Donna was grinning at him again as if he had his dinner smeared all over his face. “I do,” he insisted. “I just never had to actually do anything like this before.”

She laughed loudly at him, but he didn’t mind. It didn’t seem quite so bad when you are being an idiot with someone else. A little spark of hope began to appear in both of them.

 

After that it seemed natural to test out their cooking techniques on each other one night at the weekend, since it was midway between their cookery lessons. The first time Donna was invited round Chris’s to eat was a Saturday night, and she dropped a hint to her friends that it might be a date. Well, it got them off her back momentarily about the lack of a man in her life; and if she was honest with herself, she sort of hoped her friendship with Chris would lead in that direction. Her hopes, however, were soon dashed.

As she sat in Chris’s lounge she noticed some photos sitting on his mantelpiece, and naturally she was curious as to whom they were. So when Chris appeared with a fresh drink for her, she asked about the people in the images.

“Oh, them!” he exclaimed as he peered at the frames. “That one is Rose and her mother, Jackie; and the other is Rose and her brother, Tony.” He then turned and handed her another, smaller frame that contained a picture of him and someone else. “This one is me with Jennifer when we went to Hyde Park.”

Donna stood up to get a better look, and was dismayed by what she saw. Rose was young, blonde, petite and beautiful; whereas Jennifer had long chestnut hair, expressive large blue eyes, and looks to die for. Neither of them could have been a day over twenty five. No wonder he had fallen for both of them so hard and missed them so much. “They are both lovely,” she said politely, and handed the pictures back. “You are very lucky to have known them.”

Chris beamed back at her. “I certainly am. I might get lucky again one day.”

“I hope you do,” she answered, whilst thinking that comment put her firmly in her place. Part of her was angry that he could have at least pretended she was in with a chance; but obviously he wouldn’t. Why should he? He craved somebody young and nubile rather than some cranky old trout. So, like many other times in her life, she put on her brave face and strove to be the best friend she could be until she wasn’t needed anymore. “Is dinner ready yet, cos I’m starving?” she asked in order to change the subject and get away from the bitterness in her mind.

For his part, Chris was deflated by her reaction. Why did she answer as though she didn’t want to provide him with some luck? Didn’t she want to see him like that? Obviously she didn’t if she needed to change the subject so dramatically. It wouldn’t have been like this if he was a proper, full-blooded Time Lord; they always commanded deep respect.

“I’ll start dishing up then,” he answered, forcing himself to smile. “Do you want cheese on your spaghetti bolognese?”

“Yes please,” she replied. “Do you want me to grate it?”

There followed a friendly fight over who should deal with the cheese and whether his sauce needed more garlic or not. They called a truce in the end when the garlic bread made their argument null and void. As it was, it was declared an unqualified success.

It was as he tucked into his dessert that Chris came up with his plan. What if he could make himself into a proper Time Lord? Donna was bound to see him differently then. For all he knew she might actually fall in love with him if he was one. And if she didn’t, somebody else might. It would possibly take him a while to concoct the right potion in order to change enough, but he had nothing much else to do with his time. Smiling to himself, he began to like the idea more and more.

 

Life tootled along for them both for several weeks, whilst their friendship gradually gained strength and shared praise from both Alan and Delores. It certainly managed to pass the test set when Donna phoned Chris late one October night.

“Chris?” Donna breathily gasped on the phone. “I’ve got a desperate problem. Can you come over right away?”

“Calm down, take slow breaths and tell me all about it,” he said to both encourage and soothe her.

“There’s this noise in my radiator. It’s really scary; like an alien is trying to break out,” Donna cried.

Chris merely sighed. “It sounds like it’s probably an air pocket; you might need to bleed your radiator. I’ll bring round a radiator key,” he promised. “See you in a few minutes.”

He gained an enthusiastic greeting when Donna opened her front door. She quickly grasped his hand and dragged him towards the bedroom; to inspect the radiator. “There. That one there.” Donna needlessly pointed to it; as if there was a choice of radiators in the room.

It would have been oh so easy for Chris to take over, but he didn’t. Instead he handed Donna the radiator key, and offered moral support as she anxiously considered the task in hand. “Here you go. Just insert it at the top and gently turn,” he said; expecting to hear a muted hissing sound at any moment, followed by a glug as it all equalised.

Donna’s wide-eyes contemplated him as if he was mad. When he didn’t budge, she inserted the key and turned it.

There was a loud scream of pain as the valve and key shot sideways across the bedroom at the speed of sound, a spout of extremely hot water spat out, assaulted Donna as she stood there, and she very hastily jumped out of the way.


	3. Chapter 3

“Donna?! Are you okay?” Chris leapt forward to help her.

“I’m fine but wet. Stop the water”! she shouted at him as the whole room was threatened to be engulfed.

“Quick! Find the valve!” Chris yelled out whilst trying to avert the worse of the flow, getting a liberal helping on himself. “I think it hit the wardrobe.” 

Together they frantically scrambled on their hands and knees on the carpet to find the missing radiator pieces as hot water continued to rain down on them from a mini waterfall.

“Is this it?” Donna queried and held up a small metal piece aloft to get his attention.

‘Finally’ Chris thought as he took the valve and forced it back into the radiator, using the key to turn off the hot cascade of water. A few seconds later there was a blissful calm within the bedroom. He turned to grin triumphantly at Donna.

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself, Sunshine. We’re both sopping wet here,” Donna remarked as she shook out her sleeves. 

“Just a bit,” he agreed as he looked down to assess the personal damage. 

“We’d better get out of these wet things… and don’t look at me like that,” she admonished him as he frowned at her in bafflement. “Hand over your togs and I’ll get them washed and dried. I can use the fifteen minute washing cycle.”

“I think not,” he protested. “I’m not sitting about here in the nude. It wouldn’t be seemly.”

Donna rolled her eyes in exasperation. “As if I’d make you do that. I can give you some temporary clothing while you wait for your stuff to dry. D’uh! I’m sure I can find a t shirt, some manly knickers and a pair of shorts that’ll fit, for you to sit in.”

“I don’t know,” he whined. “This still doesn’t sound right.”

“Do you honestly want to go out utterly drenched?” she asked him in wonder. “Because you’d be a bloody fool to.” When he didn’t argue back immediately, she squelched nearer and placed her fingers on the top button of his shirt. “Come on, get this off and have a shower while I bung our stuff in the washing machine.” 

“I can do it,” he testily stated when she began to undo the buttons at a fast rate.

In a joint effort they had his shirt undone and stripped off in seconds, and then he let her grip the bottom hem of his t shirt under it to tug over his head; revealing his bare chest underneath.

Oh! She hadn’t expected his chest to be that hairy or that enticing once it was displayed. Gulping self-consciously, she allowed herself to be distracted by the object that hung around his neck. 

“You’ve got a St Christopher,” she blurted out before she knew it. “I expected you to have something else.” The pendant glittered in the muted bedroom light, and she found herself reaching out to examine it more closely; turning it over within her fingers as she did so. “It’s lovely. Were you given it for a special reason?” Looking up at that point, she saw the flash of pain that raced across his features.

Chris lightly coughed to clear his throat. “It was a gift from my erm… my mother when she…” His nostrils flared as he remembered that moment on board the TARDIS. “That was the last time I saw her on my own before I left. She wanted me to have it so that I’d always remember her,” he said softly, speaking barely above a whisper.

Partly in embarrassment, Donna returned her attention to the St Christopher. “Blimey, the Lord’s Prayer is small on the back,” she commented. “And oh look! It opens as a locket. What picture is inside?”

“Don’t,” he brokenly requested and he placed his hand over her inquisitive fingers. “Please don’t open it. There’s a picture of her and Gramps on one side, and her parents on the other.”

She nodded to imply she’d obey and respect his request. “How did she die?” she asked compassionately instead.

He flickered his wet gaze away and then landed back on her face. “I don’t know for sure exactly, but she died suddenly from some sort of aneurysm. I do know that Dad went bonkers with grief afterwards, never to recover.” He gave a sniff then. “Sorry to bring down the tone; I don’t know what came over me.”

She tenderly caressed his cheek. “That’s okay,” she reassured him. “I understand what it feels like completely.” That was when she flung her arms around his neck in a tight hug. “How about you pop into the shower while I put the kettle on? I know I could do with a nice cup of tea.”

He smiled his thanks. 

 

Chris wasn’t quite so pleased when he was under the shower and she stormed into the bathroom. “Oi! What you playing at?!” he tersely demanded.

She waved a dismissive hand at him. “Stop getting so hot under the collar. I’m in here to pick up the rest of your wet things. Do you want toast with this tea?”

He did his best impression of a drowned and exasperated rat as he peered around the shower curtain at her before replying, “That’d be nice, thanks.”

When he later emerged wrapped up in a towel, she directed him to the clothes she had laid out. “I’ve pulled out my least feminine polo shirt and shorts,” she informed him. “I wasn’t sure what knickers you’d class as suitable, so I thought I’d let you choose from the top drawer over there. But only one pair, mind you.”

‘The tease’ he thought as she left him on his own and went to have her own shower. The polo shirt didn’t look too incriminating, the shorts were Bermuda ones, so again not too bad; but the underwear drawer seemed a bit daunting. With a decisive pull, he opened the drawer and peeped in. Oh my goodness! The choice was wide and varied; and he tried to resist running his fingers over the various textures, he really did. There were even bras in there to add to the temptation; and he had just plucked out an innocent looking pair of white briefs when he became aware of the sound of the shower hitting flesh. Painfully aware, especially when there was an accompanying groan from within the bathroom. “Are you okay in there?” he called out.

“Fine, thanks!” was the reply. “I don’t know what you did, but the temperature you left this setting on is perfect.” 

Best not to think about the conditions within the shower, he told himself as his imagination tried to feed him images. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen, shall I?” he yelled out, and then hastily donned the clothing Donna had left him on the bed. The waist wouldn’t do up; a predicament that wasn’t helped by his current condition, but the rest of it was alright for now. 

As he examined his bizarre outfit in the mirror he was startled from his thoughts by Donna appearing in the doorway dressed in only a bathsheet. She laughed merrily when he tried to cover himself up. “Believe it or not,” she told him, “but I have been married; so a horny bloke isn’t exactly a shocker. And no, I don’t expect you to be interested in me like that. If, however, you try to get a quick jolly, I shall slap you from here until next Tuesday.”

“Oh no,” he quickly blustered. “I wouldn’t dream…”

She smirked at him. “I thought so.”

“Talking of your husband… your late sort of ex-husband…,” he amended with a nod of the head, “how come you haven’t got any of his clothing?”

She snorted in scorn. “Why would I want to keep his gear? No, I chucked out all of Darren’s stuff as soon as I could. I even had myself a merry little bonfire to celebrate once his family buggered off and left me on my own.”

“I’m sorry,” Chris sympathised, and stepped forward to wrap his arms around her wet body. He then realised what he was doing when the compulsion to kiss her was almost overwhelming and he deflected it into a kiss on the forehead. “This is more than a bit wrong isn’t it?” A large part of him really didn’t want to let go of her; he was enjoying the feel and smell from this ‘fresh from the shower’ experience far more than was healthy.

“Just a bit,” Donna agreed as she looked up at him. Would he kiss her properly? No, of course not, logic told her.

  
Gif created by [beachy_geek](http://beachy-geek.livejournal.com)

His mind was telling him that no, he shouldn’t. “I’ll just go and erm..,” he stammered. That’s when he left her to get dressed and headed to the kitchen to get started on their tea and toast. Phew! He’d saved their friendship just in time.

 

As prearranged, they met for lunch one December day; but conversation between them was unusually slightly stilted. The problem was that Donna felt deeply anxious as she waited for her moment, and then awkwardly asked her question. “Chris, are you going to the first Christmas party tonight?” Blimey! Was this what it was like to get a prom date, she mused.

“First?” he wondered in confusion. He frowned back at Donna as he bit into the last bite of his packed lunch.

“Yes, each office is having their own party, and the first one is in the conference room on the fifth floor,” she explained. “So… are you going?”

Chris pulled a disconcerted face. “I don’t think so.” All those unknown people, all that noise. No, he couldn’t envisage enjoying such a thing; and he had his experiment ready and waiting in his lab. “I have something I need to attend to tonight.”

“Well, if you change your mind, there should be some people from your department there,” Donna encouraged him. Not that she was hopeful in the slightest. There were only certain times in the week Chris seemed to be able to tolerate her company, after all. Perhaps all geniuses were like this? “I’ll erm, I’ll see you later, and don’t forget it’s my turn to cook dinner tomorrow.”

“I won’t,” he answered absently; hardly noticing her respectfully leaving him alone as he sat and thought about his up and coming experiment. He could hardly wait!

 

Chris glanced up at the clock on the wall, subconsciously noting that the party upstairs had started. All things considered, his plans were going ahead swimmingly despite not having a TARDIS to help; although one day he hoped his piece of coral could earn that title. And there was the little matter of lacking a second heart. Most his research had concluded in the fact he would not be able to mutate his genetic makeup to fix that one; so he decided to carry on as best as humanly possible. It would be a slur on Donna Noble to hate his physical predicament, and he really didn’t want to do that; instead, he wanted to become the best person he could scientifically become. The end was in sight now and he could finally test out the concoction properly, as it was intended. His earlier tests on plant life and lab rats had been encouraging, and he was eager to try it out on himself.

One more; just one more drop of the final component and his experiment would be complete. Or it would be once he had tested it out, of course. It needed one twirl of the liquid within the beaker, and then it was ready. “Here goes,” he said to no one in particular as he took a swig of the potion. “Next stop Time Lord, if I’m lucky.”

Oh my! It burned. Chris felt it flare all the way down to his gullet and hit his stomach. Once there, the mixture did some dizzying dance of the seven veils as it stripped away the lining. After that it hit his veins and thus every cell in his body. With a scream he noticed a faint glow around his hands; he convulsed, and he hit the deck as he blacked out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Hopefully you are all wondering what Chris has done to himself at this point.

A minute or so later, Chris stumbled as he dragged himself into an upright position, waiting for his blurry vision to become crystal clear as his eyes adjusted to this new-found clarity. Checking his heart rate and temperature, he then added to his notes, and considered his next move. Faint murmurs filtered down from the party above, and he knew what to do but not dressed like this. Oh no, this wouldn’t do. With a ferociously scornful act, he tore off his clothing and stood panting with exhilaration. Now _this_ was living!

There was an air of satisfaction as he examined himself re-booted and suited. With a whoop of joy he raced out of the door.

Donna noticed him as soon as the stranger stood in the entranceway. In fact, he deliberately framed himself there in the entrance, draped in a nonchalant pose to optimum effect. He was tall, dark and handsome; dressed in a carefully cut blue suit, with a brooding dangerous melancholy air about him. Everything screamed ‘confident’ about him though, from his precisely coiffured hair that sprouted from his head down to his shabby chic burgundy Converses that matched his tie. His dark brown eyes swept momentarily over the room as he looked for his prey, and then he pounced; aiming for meek Michaela as she stood waiting for her fiancé.

He entered the room only dimly aware of the crush of people there or the strobe lights that were broken by the flailing forms of people dancing. All of his senses pointed him towards a woman that smelt familiar. She wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but she would do for now. Somewhere in the back of his mind was a voice that supplied the name: Michaela. But logic wasn’t playing a massive part of his movements as his body made a beeline for her. Without making a conscious decision, he reached out and grabbed her upper arms, intent on possessing her as soon as possible.

“Get away from her, you letch!” Donna shouted at him as she marched up and wrenched his hands fiercely away from Michaela’s arms.

Gobsmacked, Chris released the woman, instantly forgetting her, and regarded this feisty ginger vision in front of him. Her straightened hair hung loose around her bare neck to her shoulders, just as he liked it. That led his gaze downwards to take in the figure hugging rich wine coloured dress that emphasised every voluptuous curve. The whole effect made his blood fire with delight, and his eyes instantly teared up as he took her in, shaking his head in wonder; taking a deep breath to taste her scent. Oh yes! Now this was miles better. Every ounce within him suddenly wanted her as desire pulsed through him with a vengeance.

“Ooh, Donna Noble. I've waited such a long time for you,” he softly crooned.

“You what?!” she demanded to know, in shock. “How do you know my name?” In her bewilderment she had totally missed him placing his hands on her waist.

He slowly aimed his grasp on Donna’s body to pull her tight against his chest, and then eased her into dancing a few steps with him. As he had completely expected, she followed his lead across the dancefloor. “I know you like I know myself; we complete each other. With every breath I thank god I know you, right down to my very soul.”

“That's a bit rich, ain't it?” she scoffed self-deprecatingly. He must have thought she was born yesterday, trying out a line like that.

A slight smile played about his lips. “Would you believe me if I said Chris told me your name,” he offered instead.

Donna chuckled. This sounded more plausible. “Yes, I can do that. And who are you?”

He hastily looked around the room for inspiration as he sought an alias. “I’m Doctor John Sturgeon; but I’m generally called the Doctor.”

“Are you now?” she wondered, slightly disbelieving him. “And how do you know our Chris?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he schmoozed into her ear; all the time guiding their dancing footsteps. “We share a lab together,” he whispered closely, hoping his puffs of breath on her skin were having the same effect on her as her scent was having on him.

“In what way?” she tried to ask, but when she moved her head those lips of his were dangerously near her own; and they were extremely tempting. “And how come I’ve never heard of you?”

“I’m brand new here today,” he replied in sultry tones. “But I’ve known Chris for some time.”

“How come he didn’t mention you were going to work with him?” she asked suspiciously.

“He was unaware I’d appear today,” he told her with a smirk. “Here I am. And I couldn’t wait to meet you.”

Donna snorted in disbelief. “I dread to think what he’s said about me then.”

“Oh Donna. If you only knew,” he remarked as he led them into more dance steps; sweeping her across the dancefloor. “You want to know, don’t you?” he teased when he caught her eye.

“Do you really expect me not to? Do be serious,” she scoffed. “And it doesn’t seem fair that you know about me but I know nothing about you.”

“Let’s go find ourselves a quiet corner somewhere, and then you can ask me whatever you like,” he offered; but he didn’t wait for an answer as he started to lead her off the dancefloor and towards the exit.

Once out in the corridor, he opened a nearby door and found a small office. “This will do,” he commented, and drew her in.

“Well?” she immediately asked defensively when the door shut behind them. It wasn’t that she felt in danger exactly, but it never paid to be alone with a stranger despite how charming they can seem. Not that his charms were working on her in the slightest, or that she quite fancied the idea of being kissed by him; oh no. “What sort of relationship do you have with Chris?”

That smug grin appeared back on his face. “We’re like that,” he said, lifting up I his hand to show his first two fingers entwined. “In fact, we couldn’t be closer.”

“Close enough to have your photo sitting on his mantelpiece,” Donna remarked, not believing his story for a second.

The Doctor merely dismissed that remark with a wave of his hand. “Those photos represent the ones that got away, his wish list before he met you. If he were to add new ones… well, I think we can safely guess who would appear.”

“Can we? Cos I can’t,” she replied. “Unless you mean Natalie in his department; he seems to like her a lot.”

The sound of the party could easily be heard through the wall, providing a musical backdrop. “Why are we talking about Chris when we should be talking about us,” the Doctor practically purred at her as he stepped within her personal space. “Dance with me,” he softly ordered and took hold of her body again, as he swayed them in time to the music.

What was she doing? She found herself complying when normally she’d have slapped him one for his impudence. “Us? There is no ‘us’ to discuss,” she retorted.

“Oh, I think there is,” he insisted as he rested his head against hers. “I can sense that you want me and I certainly want you; so no denying it.”

Mesmerised, she gave him a look that clearly questioned his sanity. “How can you sense that?”

In answer, he licked languidly up her neck and then gazed into her eyes. “Your heart rate is elevated, adrenaline increased, pupils dilated, and your pheromones are just kicking me in the palate.” He then smoothed both of his hands down her back and landed on her bottom, gently crushing her lower torso as he lovingly caressed her body. “And there is part of your evidence. I can provide more if you like,” he crooned.

“More? What sort of more?” she heard herself stupidly ask.

He leaned in and closed his eyes as he ghosted his lips over her mouth. “I was thinking of something like this.”

One of his hands was travelling up her back as she answered, “That would do it.” Going for broke, she flung her arms around his neck and pressed forward, allowing him to kiss her properly.

It wasn’t the kiss she would have expected, all demanding and intrusive. Instead, it started as a soft press when he landed delicately on her lips, as if he could hardly believe it was happening for a moment. Then he moved over her lips, savouring every second before opening more to taste her mouth. When his tongue met hers and slid over it in an intimate dance, she wanted to claim him, body and soul.

Breathless, they finally broke apart, dazed by the encounter.

“I think we’d better go back,” he whispered. “Otherwise I won’t be able to control myself for much longer.”

“So that I know what I’m avoiding, what exactly are you in danger of doing?” she couldn’t help asking.

He let out a feral growl that had far reaching effects on her libido. “Right this second it involves ripping your knickers clean off, and I have a feeling you might not welcome that later on the way home.”

“True,” she agreed. “In that case we’d better go and get ourselves a drink before we do something stupid.”

 

The rest of the night was mainly spent dreamily wrapped around each other on the dance floor avoiding anything more complicated than the odd peck. Donna’s hopes regarding their journey home were dashed when the Doctor suddenly shuddered and announced, “I’ve got to go. I need to pop down to Chris’ lab for a while, to see how the experiment is progressing for a few hours.” He then cradled her head lovingly, and told her sincerely, “We’ll meet again, very soon, Donna Noble. I have every intention of finding you to continue our tryst. Don’t forget me.”

“I won’t,” she fervently promised.

He kissed her once more and ran, leaving her standing there alone but not feeling lonely. After all, he had said he would return, and she had every faith in him that he would keep his word.

After some minutes, Michaela approached her cautiously, and asked, “Who was that bloke, Donna? He came across as a bit intense.”

“He was a bit,” Donna had to agree. “He is Doctor John Sturgeon, and he’s the new bloke in Research.”

“I got the impression he was more than keen on you.” Michaela gave her a playful nudge. “When are you seeing him again?”

“Soon, very soon,” Donna answered confidently; and she relished that feeling.

 

The Doctor raced down to the laboratory. Oh, this didn’t feel right. Everything was wavering, making his insides quiver and setting his nerves on edge. What he obviously needed was another dose of the potion. Yes, that should fix this until the sonic screwdriver was finished. Panting, he entered the lab and looked about hastily as he gained his bearings. The book that Chris had recorded his reactions in sat on the bench waiting for his input to update the data. The Doctor wanted to laugh with barely disguised disgust. A true Time Lord would not need to keep such notes; only a half-breed idiot would need all that. And in his opinion Chris was the lowest of the low, a paltry human wannabe.

As he went to laugh again a pain gripped him in his stomach, and he collapsed on to the floor. If he could only make it to the sofa in the corner, he could work this problem out…

Crawling on his hands and knees, a wave of deep fatigue hit him. So much to do, so little time. Easing himself on to the soft cushions, he only had time to think that he hoped Donna got home safely when he went out like a light, plunged into slumber. The next sound inside the lab was gentle snoring.

 

Several hours later he was woken by the ringtone on his phone telling him to get off his lazy arse and answer it. Reluctantly, he lifted the device and saw that it was Donna ringing him. Smiling broadly, he pressed the ‘receive call’ button.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** the "Learners" screencap of Chris was provided by [beachy_geek](http://beachy-geek.livejournal.com).

Placing his mobile phone to his ear, Chris brightly said, “Hello, love. What can I do for you today?”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. “Chris?” Donna sounded perplexed. “It’s me, Donna. Are you okay?”

“Couldn’t be better.” The grin was all too evident in his voice.

“Did you get lucky last night? I take it the experiment went well,” she surmised. “Well, it would go better with your friend the Doctor helping you.”

“He told you that?!” he practically squeaked as he hastily tried to sit up, felt a bout of nausea try to break through his skull, and looked around for his glasses. Damn! Where had he thrown them?

“It wasn’t a state secret, was it?” she queried. “Don’t worry, he didn’t tell me what exactly you two were up to.”

Chris groaned as he held onto his head; or rather tried to hold it in place. “No, I won’t. Did he erm… did he… was… what did…?”

Donna sighed. “Chris, I promise to tell you whatever you want to know, but I have to actually have the question first.”

At that moment he spotted his glasses, and reached out to grab them almost without toppling off the sofa. “Okay, here goes. What did you think of him?”

“Nice. He seemed very nice,” she said. Blimey! That must be the understatement of the century. “A bit full of himself at times, and intense, but all in all I liked him.”

Chris wiped his hand down his face, feeling his good mood slipping away. “And did you erm… was there any… have you made… plans to see him again?”

Oh. Hadn’t the Doctor told him? She thought they were close friends. Then again, did that mean something else? “I won’t lie to you, Chris. He overwhelmed me quite a lot last night, what with all the talk and smooching. Is he like that with every woman he meets? Because it would make perfect sense to me if he is a serial hit and run driver.” Donna then let out a small sob. “I’ve been a total silly cow, haven’t I? I can’t believe I actually believed him for five seconds. God, I am thick,” she declared despondently.

What? Oh no no no no! “Donna, you are not thick,” Chris firmly insisted, not knowing quite how to play this. “I’m sure he thinks a lot of you.”

“Yeah, nice try,” she stated as she wiped at her eyes desperately. “It serves me right for being taken in. I’m sure you’d never treat a woman like that.” 

He heard her sad sigh and wanted to immediately hug her close. “Why don’t I come over early and we can have a nice cuddle in front the telly this afternoon? Just name a box set of DVDs and I’ll bring it over.”

“Oh Chris.” She then frantically wiped even more tears away as she considered his thoughtfulness. “What would I do without you? Apart from have no one to cook massive meals for, I mean. Bring something we can bitch about; and can you pick up some decent ice cream on the way?”

“Anything for you, love,” he eagerly replied, and felt a warm glow within his chest when he came off the phone. This was beginning to look promising. With that in mind he eyed the rest of his potion suspiciously. Was it wrong to have used it if it gave him what he wanted? Well, it wasn’t as though he would have to use it again…

  


As he stood on her doorstep he wanted to greet her with the words, “You ordered a large cuddle” but when she opened the door and weepily flung her arms around him it seemed slightly out of place to do so.

Within minutes he had her settled down on the settee, some innocuous DVD in the player, and the kettle on for a calming cup of tea. Handing her a mug, he plonked himself down cosily next to her and opened with the question, “Do you want to tell me all about it?”

She nodded, put the mug down and wrapped her arms around his body, leaning her head on his shoulder; making the most of being able to do this with him as she felt him return the embrace. Okay, she was beginning to feel a bit of a fraud at this point, but when the opportunity presents itself… “You must think I’m a right div acting this way. But he reeled me in hook, line and sinker.”

Chris smoothed a hand over her hair. “What on earth did he say?” he wondered.

“Some flowery things, but it was more how he said it, making me feel special,” she explained.

“Well, you _are_ special,” he blurted out, and ignored the inevitable derisive snort from Donna. 

She then surprised him by asking, “Are you related to him?”

Oh. How should he answer that one? “Erm… yes, actually,” he said guiltily.

“I thought so,” she mumbled next to his chest. “There’s quite a family resemblance; not that I’m saying you go around seducing women just for the fun of it. In what way are you related?” 

Near panic made him mutter, “On my dad’s side. He had some traits my mother wasn’t too keen on.” 

There was a muffled yawn as she nestled more into his chest. “I don’t blame her,” she said before drifting off.

Chris didn’t mind too much; it meant he could indulge in running his fingers through her hair to his heart’s content for the next hour or so. After that, she woke up and insisted on cooking him a dinner, so it was a win-win situation.

Well, it was until he got home when that damn bottle of mixture called out to him to prove her wrong and use it again. 

  
 

Donna was just about to change into her nightwear when her doorbell went. Thinking it was probably Chris complaining he had forgotten his wallet or something, she didn’t hesitate to open the door, and was shocked to see the Doctor standing there.

“YOU!” she spat at him.

“Hello, Donna,” he said smoothly, looking very unruffled. “I hear you’ve been casting aspersions against my character. Tsk tsk! This won’t do. And after all the lovely things I said about you.” 

“If you didn’t go around acting like a conceited prig then I wouldn’t have to,” she defended herself. 

“You wound me, Donna Noble,” he replied, placing his hands over his heart. “Up until now I thought you might be the one.”

“The one what?” she queried, glaring at him.

“I know, let’s carry on discussing this on your doorstep for all your neighbours to hear,” he sarcastically replied instead.

Her cheeks flared in embarrassment. “I suppose you’d better come in then. But you are not staying here long, so don’t think that you are.”

He stepped into her small hallway, and swept his smug smile towards her. “As if I would ever do anything to upset you. No, I’m here to apologise and let you say sorry to me in return.”

“Sorry? Why should I say that?” she asked.

He moved closer to her, almost wedging her up against the lounge door. “You know exactly why,” he said as he brought up a finger to trail it down her cheek. “I hear you spent the afternoon canoodling with Chris.”

“And what if I was?” she asked defiantly. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”

He shook his head. “Au contraire, mon amour. It matters a great deal to me, since I laid a claim on you last night.”

Her hand shot up to slap him hard, but he deftly caught it. He then had the cheek to chuckle.

“What’s so bloody funny?” she demanded to know as he held onto her wrist. She’d be blowed if she’d allow him to intimidate her.

“You are, my gorgeous, darling, fiery ginger,” he near whispered, rubbing his nose seductively along her jaw. “I love the way you react.” He then almost freaked her out by taking a deep sniff next to her throat. “I love so many things about you.”

“How can you say that? You hardly know me after one night of dancing,” she retorted.

“And kissing. Don’t forget we were snogging each other; and very nice it was too.” That irritating self-congratulatory smirk was back. 

“I think you should leave,” she announced.

“No!” His eyes shot daggers at her, and then he spoke more gently. “No, Donna. I won’t leave you yet. We have too much to discuss.”

What was he on about? As far as Donna was concerned they had nothing to discuss and she was completely over him. Her unrequited love for Chris was enough to see her through. She was totally unaffected by the Doctor’s enticing scent, his dark eyes that were so soft and intense at the same time; that mouth that suddenly made its way onto hers, sweeping away every carefully placed argument she had built up in order to ward him off. 

A groan or two forced its way out as their lips glided together in a hot, seductive dance. Her mind fought hard to battle against this delicious feeling but it was as though something was forcing her to ignore every single counter argument and focus only on how good he made her feel.

It almost worked, because she jolted when she realised his hand was once again on her bottom, tenderly caressing it. He hardly batted an eyelid as his other hand kept her head in place, and he crooned in her ear, “You are _so_ beautiful.” 

Her mind buzzed with delight; and all she wanted to do was kiss and kiss him before he disappeared out of her life forever.

It was quite weird when he broke from her with a strangled cry; his eyes blown wide open. Anger then raged on his handsome features. “That little sub-human!” he cried. “I’ll get Chris back for this.”

Sub-human?! What exactly did that mean? She truly hoped Chris hadn’t done anything stupid on her behalf. “Why? What has he done?” Donna asked in shock.

“Something he’ll regret,” the Doctor merely answered darkly. “Nothing for you to worry about,” he added deliberately lightly as he quickly pecked a kiss on her mouth. “I’ll see you soon.”

With that he was gone, out into the night; so Donna hastily texted Chris to let him know the Doctor was on the rampage. 

She then sat staring at her phone, thinking, ‘Ring! Why don’t you ring?’ as she waited for a reply. How did she really feel about the Doctor? Her mind was in such confusion, as if a spell had been cast over her where he was concerned. She liked kissing him, she knew that; and he absolutely filled her head when she was with him. But when she was back on her own, Chris was all she wanted to think about. Why couldn’t she be happy with the one man that had offered himself to her in recent years? Why did she always want the unobtainable? 

Taking a deep breath, she decided she would make the most of this opportunity after having told Chris the absolute truth. He deserved to hear it from the horse’s mouth. Although perhaps she’d leave out the bit about fantasising it was Chris she was really kissing. Yes, that part could be very shaming. 

With that decision made, she took herself off to bed to see what her dreams would bring. 

For his part, the Doctor was furious as he stormed back to Chris’ house. The little pipsqueak had tampered with the strength of the potion, making it nigh on impossible for him to stay the night. Well, he wasn’t going to let that detail escape his attention next time.

But as he opened the front door his strength was already rapidly waning; and by the time he climbed the stairs he was almost out cold.


	6. Chapter 6

Donna woke up still feeling fairly ambiguous about the Doctor. He seemed to be promising her the earth, with such emotion; but it all felt too much too soon, and his passion overwhelmed her. One thing remained clear in her mind: she had to tell Chris everything once she had checked that he was okay. Her heart clenched as she thought of any possible injury the Doctor might have imposed on him. Surely their friendship would stop any true damage being done? She certainly hoped so.

As soon as she got of bed she grabbed her mobile and rang Chris’s number. Because she half expected it to go to voicemail due to Chris lying bleeding and dying in some gutter, relief flooded her when Chris himself answered. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you? What did he do to you?” was blurted out before she could help herself.

Chris frantically sought for answers that would both allay her fears but give him a sufficient cover story. “I’m fine, honest I am. He was more than a bit pissed off with me when he got back here last night, but things have calmed down,” he told her after a few seconds.

“Is he staying with you then? Where is he sleeping?” she anxiously asked. “You never said that before. If it gets too bad you can always sleep here in my spare bedroom, you know.”

A more than pleased grin spread across his face. He hadn’t thought of that one, and he liked the scenarios it conjured up. “Thanks, Donna. It’s great to know I can rely on you. In fact, I might have to impose on you, if that’s okay...?”

“It would be no problem at all,” Donna said confidently. “I can’t have you going around risking life and limb on my behalf.” There was a slight pause before she asked, “Has he got you sleeping on the settee? Because if he has, I insist you spend the night here.”

Chris really wanted to giggle at her protective tone. “I admit I spent the night on the settee, but we’re taking it in turns for the bed until we can sort out a permanent arrangement about him. For being the perfect friend, I insist on taking you out for lunch or brunch, whichever one applies.”

There was an answering chuckle on the other end of the line. “Go on then, you’ve talked me into it. Where shall we meet?”

Chris considered his watch. “How about outside our Starbucks in an hour?” he offered. There was a squeal of delight on the other end before she agreed. 

He came off the phone full of possible plans and grinning like an idiot. Well, why shouldn’t he? He was meeting the woman of his dreams (best not to mention the nature of those dreams to her), the wintry sun was shining, and romance was possibly in the air. All that left was his conscience to wrestle with; and should he take advantage of the offer of a bed at her place. His initial reaction was not to, but you never knew when such an invite would be more than welcome, so he shoved it to the back of his mind for the time being.

  
 

When Donna met up with Chris later that day she was smiling ecstatically. 

In fact, she was practically bouncing when she grabbed hold of his arm, kissed his cheek in welcome and remarked, “I hope you haven’t forgotten that you promised to help me buy a dress for next Saturday.”

“Did I? Why, what’s happening next Saturday?” he wondered, having been distracted by this new development of their relationship. He liked being able to kiss her cheek in return, and hoped to be able to do much more very soon.

She swatted at his shoulder. “It’s the grandest Christmas party, you prawn! Everybody’s been talking about it. I need to buy myself a decent dress to wear.”

Chris took the opportunity to take hold of her swatting hand and used it to loop their arms together. “Are you sure you need to?” he asked, intending the question to be a compliment.

Of course Donna took it as nothing of the sort. “You may not notice what I’m wearing but other people do,” she pointed out.

“Why are you worrying what other people think?” he wondered out loud. “You should dress as you deem fit.”

Donna sighed wearily. “Chris, **I** care what I wear; and I want to look stunning or get close to it, if I can.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to deny that she needed to try any harder, but held it in for the time being as another thought occurred to him. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why do you care so much suddenly? Are you…? No! Have you got your eye on someone, Donna? Are you falling for someone?”

“Might be,” she answered cagily, and then hastily looked away.

“Who?” he demanded to know.

She blushed. Was this the moment she should tell him the truth; the absolute truth? As she opened her mouth her bottle went, and her answer became a complete cop out. “If you must know, it’s your friend, the Doctor."

Chris was stunned for a few seconds as he felt his previous joy seep away. “So you genuinely like him?” he sought to confirm. “I thought after yesterday he wouldn’t be able to win you round.”

Donna internally agreed, but personal pride was rearing its head. After all, she’d allowed the bloke to snog her last night and feel things physically that she hadn’t felt in many years. So she shrugged sheepishly. “He seemed really keen last night before he went all postal about you, and he claims he wasn’t just using me. I know this sounds stupid but I was hoping he’d turn up to the main Christmas party. Do you know if the Doctor is coming?”

Oh. Perhaps this experiment wasn’t as over as he thought it was. If Donna was genuinely falling for the Doctor then he needed to keep appearing as him temporarily, if not ultimately on a more permanent basis. “I’ll do my best to make sure he turns up, Donna,” he promised; saving the bitterness that evoked for later.

“You will?” She breathed rapidly with expectation and then squealed with delight. “Have I ever told you that I bloody love you?”

There was no answer to that as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. If only every day could feel this good; with her wrapped around him.

 

“Excuse me, sir; but your wife is trying to attract your attention,” the shop assistant said to Chris as he sat innocently waiting for Donna to reappear from the boutique changing rooms.

Grinning broadly whilst deliberately failing to correct the woman, he made his way to where Donna was peeking anxiously out from around a solid blue curtain. 

“Thank goodness you’ve come. I’m not completely sure about this one. What do you think?” She then swished back the curtain and gave him a better view of the dress she was trying on.

“Oh Donna,” he gasped out in delighted surprise. “You look lovely.”

She swivelled and showed him her back. “Are you sure? Does my bum look too big in this?”

“No,” he said with feeling. “Honestly, you are gorgeous in that dress.”

She made a play of looking at the price tag as she tried to make her mind up.

“No more arguments,” he declared. “We are buying that dress for you, so change out of it and I’ll go pay for it.”

When he remained standing there, she pointed out, “You have to get out of here so that I can take it off; unless you have a particular desire to see me in my underwear.”

Blimey, talk about a leading question! It was on the tip of his tongue to agree to that desire, but he thought better of it. “I’ll erm… just be outside then,” he told her with a vague wave of his hand towards where his waiting seat was. 

With a giggle, she pushed him through the curtain, and swished it shut. “You’d better be walking away from this cubicle,” she warned him.

How did she know he was hovering outside? She amazed him at times. With that thought he headed back to his previous perch, flashing an embarrassed smile at the shop assistant as he sat down. One that said, ‘women, eh?’

“Your turn,” she trilled, once the dress was bought and paid for.

“You what?” He frowned at her in confusion.

“We’ve got to get you a decent suit, or just a jacket,” she said decisively. “We can’t have you turning up in your zipped anorak. It’s just not done.”

“Donna, I’m not going!” he protested.

“Yes, you are,” she contradicted him. “You can’t miss the main event of the year, unless you...” And then it struck her that he probably didn’t want to be seen with her or he was annoyed about her asking for the Doctor to go with them. Was he really that put out about the Doctor?

“Donna, as you know, I don’t like going to parties where I know hardly anyone, so I’ll leave such things to you and the Doctor to enjoy,” he tried to console her as the logistics of it worried his mind. “Plus, I don’t have a dressy jacket. I’d only wear one if I had to go a funeral.”

“Then buy one that’s fit for a funeral,” she scolded him in embarrassment. How could she make him see that she really wanted him to go with her? “You cannot wear that thing forever.” She pointed at his jacket in emphasis. “Or your gilet, before you trying using that argument. I don’t know how you get away with it, I really don’t.”

He sighed, knowing he couldn’t argue his way out of it, and reluctant to counter argue that he already had a suit. He had no intention of wearing the blue suit ever again if he had his way; especially not as himself. “But Donna,” he whinged. “I don’t like wearing formal clothes.”

She tsked. “Yes, I _had_ noticed, and I’m sure you are very happy that way, but Chris, if you are ever to get the woman of your dreams you are going to have to smarten up a bit. Sorry, mate. Once you got her and she’s fallen in love with you, you can dress however you like; but before that, you have to attract her, and that jacket just ain’t doing it.”

He had to concede that there was wisdom in her words. “Oh alright,” he huffed. “What should I buy?”

Trying not to look too smug, she suggested, “We can look in Principles, Marks’, BHS or Burtons first. Where do you fancy?”

Resisting saying ‘none of them’, he said, “Burtons. That seems a logical start.”

And the pair of them traipsed off to the shop in question.

  


As it turned out, he quite enjoyed her holding up various items of clothing against him; the best bit being when she thrust some trousers onto his waist and run her hand over the fabric. Not that he particularly enjoyed anything that was remotely pervy about that. He just liked having her undivided attention, her hands on his body and the chance to smell her scent up close. The way her face changed as she considered each option fascinated him. As she did so, he learnt what she liked on him and what she generally found appealing. One thing he did learn was that the suit had been a big turn on where the Doctor was concerned.

Now, what should he do? Buy a suit and wear it just for her, or leave all of that for the Doctor to enjoy? It still left the problem of him hating such get ups, and feeling the need to rip it off at the first opportunity.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: my muse insisted that I add this. Sorry.

As he stood in front of a shop changing room mirror, examining himself in a new pair of trousers and matching jacket, Chris realised that he was contemplating letting the Doctor take over this aspect of his life. Shouldn’t he wrestle back control and banish the Doctor forever? The decision to leave the suit behind in the first place had caused his life to disintegrate around his ears. Why was he allowing such thinking to happen again? And then he got his answer: Donna smiled at him.

It was a smile that lit up his world and washed everything else away. In that moment he would have done absolutely anything for her in order to make her happy. “Do you like this suit?” he inevitably asked her.

She nodded enthusiastically. “I like that one the most. It makes you look very handsome,” she admitted with great honesty. What she held in was the thought that the suit with the tie they’d picked out would complement the dress she had just bought too; or should that be the dress he had just bought her? It made her feel a bit like a kept woman to have him buy her the dress, despite his insistence on doing so. But they could write it off as an early Christmas present, couldn’t they? Well, she could, if she didn’t think about the price, and what such a gift would imply about their relationship. So she risked saying, “You look gorgeous.”

Chris blushed with delight. “Would you let me... Although you don’t have to if you don't want to... But then again you might not mind.... Could we perhaps go to this thing on Saturday together? I had a personal invite from Pete Tyler, and I... I erm... I really don’t know many people there so I’d need you to help me with names and such, so if you don't mind...,” he blustered on.

Donna took pity on him, and silently screamed with excitement that he had asked her when she had long stopped hoping he would. Calming herself down, she rested her hands on his shoulders, smiled encouragingly and told him, “I think that can be arranged, since you’ve just bought me the dress and all. Don’t worry; I’ll introduce you to everyone and I’ll make sure you don’t have to panic.”

To both his surprise and let’s be honest, to hers, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her briefly on the lips. He pulled back in shock that he had done that. “Oh, I do apologise. You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“Honestly?” she asked, noting that her heart was soaring with happiness at the admission. “No. What’s a kiss between friends?”

But the pair of them walked away from the shop that day feeling very happy with themselves that a small step forward had been taken in their relationship; Chris for having finally done it, and Donna for the promise of more that it held.

  


The following morning Donna arrived at work without the usual Monday morning blues, eager to face the week. There were a couple of Christmas parties for her to attend, mostly within Torchwood, and there was the prospect of the coming weekend. For once she allowed herself to hope that things were getting better in her life without being frightened of the consequences.

By the afternoon Donna was sat at Clarissa’s desk feeling quite important. There had been a phone call that morning asking her to fill in as the acting PA for Mr Tyler, and Donna had jumped at the chance to prove her worth. She knew she could do this job easily; if only someone would give her the permanent chance.

A blur of blondeness swept in on the wave of some expensive perfume; and before Donna could even ask who she was or see her face, a question was flung in her direction. “Is he in? I need to ask…” 

The woman then wrenched open the inner door before bothering to face her properly. When she did, there was more than a surprised gasp of shock. As Donna stood to apprehend the blonde there was also a flash of recognition on the woman’s features, and at that moment Donna knew she was probably gazing at Chris’ lost Rose.

Rose had a piece of card in her hand, one that she waved about to emphasis her query. “Donna! It’s true then; he’s come back for me. Where is he? Tell me where I can find him. Please!”

“Find him,” Donna repeated, shocked at this onslaught. “Who exactly are you trying to find.”

Rose then waved the card under Donna’s nose and she saw a large photo of herself that had obviously been taken at the Christmas party on Friday night. “Him,” Rose said, angrily pointing at the man in the photo. “Don’t mess me about, Donna. I know he’s here, so tell me.”

“You mean the Doctor? Yeah, I know where he might be,” Donna answered, taking in Rose’s agitated stance. Not another woman he had seduced! Was he working through a list? And how the heck did she know her name? Had Chris gone around telling everybody? “Come on then if it’s that important,” she huffed, and strode out, flinging a request towards Sally to mind her desk for ten minutes.

Leading Rose down to Chris’ lab was a bizarre experience. Rose seemed to think Donna knew all about her and cared a great deal about her affair with the Doctor, judging by what she was saying. All Donna did was nod in the right places and internally fumed, yet again, that he had chosen her as his latest victim. 

Eventually they ended up outside Chris’ lab; she’d only been there a few times, when they had arranged to meet for lunch, but things might be awkward with the Doctor being there. “Hang on a minute,” she said to Rose, who looked decidedly put out by that; and she opened the door to peep in. If Chris was in the middle of testing out a piece of technology he could be more than frosty. 

There was no sign of Chris, but the lab wasn’t empty. Draped over the sofa was the Doctor, looking as though he was waiting for a photographer to bark orders at him. Feeling annoyed with herself for feeling the usual flutter of butterflies in her stomach when she saw him, Donna called out, “Doctor! There’s someone here who is desperate to see you.”

“Donna!” he cried out in joy, then gracefully leapt up and almost bound towards her in his eagerness. “My, it is delightful to see you, my love.”

Before she had a chance to draw breath, she was swept up into a tight embrace within his arms and spun around. Once again she was aware how great a kisser he was. That man could compete in an Olympic event, if they ever include it.

“Doctor?! What are you doing?” Rose loudly demanded from behind them. She couldn’t believe her eyes. He was there to rescue her and take her back to the real universe with him, and he was messing about hugging Donna Noble, of all people.

The Doctor lifted his head and regarded the person who had just fired an accusation in his direction. “Rose, what are you doing down here? Shouldn’t you be enjoying your new inheritance?” he nonchalantly asked. 

Rose practically exploded at him. “I’m here because I thought you had found a way to rescue me! But instead I find you cavorting with _her_!”

“Ah!” He gently released Donna enough to only hold her hand possessively. “You’ve got the wrong Doctor, Rose. I’m the one that wasn’t right for you. Remember? Anyway…” There was a slight wink towards Donna and a cheery smile. “I found someone who would give me a second glance. Thank you for enticing her down here, and I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”

“You’re… _him_?” Rose pondered, trying to catch up mentally with what had just been dropped on her. “But you said you didn’t want to look like this anymore.” She did a graceful sweep of the hand downwards to denote his outfit.

“How very human of me,” he mocked her. “I must have thought I was in with a chance with you to do that. Still… I’m over all that now.”

Donna stood there feeling utterly confused. Who had been Rose’s boyfriend, and when? Had she dumped Chris to be with the Doctor and then gone back to Chris? She could see no other way of explaining it. And now the Doctor was using her to score points off Rose by the look of things.

“I see that you had to seek out Donna Noble in order to cope in this world,” Rose retorted.

What? Another person calling her Donna Noble; the cheek! “Excuse me, but my name is Donna Smith,” she testily pointed out, “and I’m standing right here, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Strange; Rose looked as though she had just slapped her around the face.

“You’re Donna… Smith,” Rose said faintly. She then hastily switched her eyes from Donna onto the Doctor and back again.

He merely shrugged dismissively. Oh, he was enjoying this; letting her think Donna was his wife. “Yes, she is,” he stated proudly, and waited for the fallout.

Rose clasped her hands over her mouth in grief. He’d done what? He couldn’t! He wasn’t supposed to treat her this way. He’d been created for her; he was _her_ gift, not some Donna Noble!! 

Not knowing what to do, she let out an anxious sob, turned tail and ran from the room filled with his smug grin.

“That went well,” he remarked to Donna once they were alone. “Fancy some tea?”

“No, thank you; I have to get back to my desk. But, Doctor..?” Donna tried to ask the million questions floating through her head. “I don’t understand. Why piss her off like that? What did she do that was so wrong?”

“Remember how you reacted within minutes of meeting me? You let me hold you close; we kissed and made physical promises to each other. Well, she didn’t do any of that. Quite the opposite in fact,” he explained. “All she cared about was me looking like this.”

But… Rose had acted as though she loved him beyond all else. What had just happened? This didn’t tie in with the image of him as some Lothario.

“It’s all so confusing… If you are going to look like that, why is it wrong of her to want you to?” Donna wondered.

The Doctor made a point of cupping her cheek and looking deep into her eyes. “I don’t want you to worry your pretty little head about this, love. We’ll arrange a date together and discuss this later.”

“Hang on, you’re talking as though you’re my boyfriend,” Donna stated, “and I’m not even sure if I would call you that.”

In answer, the Doctor lifted his hand and brushed her temple. “You are mine, Donna Noble; and you will class me as your ‘boyfriend’; bizarre title that it is. Are we quite clear about that?”

Donna hastily nodded as yet another hazy fog settled within her mind. “Yes, Doctor; very clear,” she replied, to his deep satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he declared with a joyful grin. “I have chosen you as my mate, and I shouldn’t have to remind you that it will be dangerous to break this bond. Now go and be spectacular,” he said, giving her a brief kiss before releasing her to return to her office.

When Donna stepped out of the lift and made her way back to Clarissa’s desk, she shook her head to clear the fog. What had she agreed to with the Doctor? She held a hand up to hide her eyes from the light and found that she couldn’t quite remember; a fact that worried her enormously. Suddenly she needed to speak to Chris and ask him about this and hear his soothing voice. Was she going insane? And would she know if she was? Only time would tell.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I would have had this ready a lot earlier, but as usual my muse added bits in, and insisted I change the ending.

Thank goodness there was no sign of Rose when Donna got back to her temporary desk outside Mr Tyler’s office. There was, however, the photo that Rose had wielded under her nose. It was a clear shot of the Doctor dancing with someone who had their back to the camera. Still, it wasn’t too bad a view of her, Donna decided. Was it wrong to be glad that her hair looked okay from the back? Those hands of his really did linger dangerously low on her body, despite his declaration of it being a harmless gesture. The cheeky git! 

At five o’clock she picked up her mobile phone, brought up Chris’ phone number and pressed the dial button. To her surprise, he didn’t pick up, and it went to voicemail. “Where are you, Chris? I need to talk to you about something. Oh, and Alan emailed to ask if we were going for Christmas drinks tomorrow at the Red Lion,” she hastily said when the bleep went. As she frowned at the phone in her hand something moved in her peripheral vision, and she stifled a scream when she spotted the Doctor leaning against the open door. “You bloody idiot! I almost had a heart attack then,” she admonished him.

He gracefully pushed himself away from the door and made his way towards her, smiling slyly. “I wanted to watch you unnoticed for a few minutes. There’s no harm in that, is there? And I wanted to take you out for dinner.”

Stifling a frown, she warned him, “I can’t go far, as I have to deal with the second Christmas party tonight.”

“Then I’d better be quick whilst monopolising your time,” he smoothly replied.

“Why do I get the impression you are trying to stop me talking with someone?” she asked him as she noted his sneaky action of slipping her phone deep into her bag.

All he did was chuckle in answer, and led her towards the lift.

  
 

Chris woke with a start and glanced at his watch. Blimey! He had slept right through the night; his reaction to the potion was getting worse each time he used it. This time round he had lost over ten hours through sleep. Swearing lightly, he decided that he would not attempt to use it at least until the weekend, that’s if he ever bothered again. He couldn’t afford to risk losing precious hours being wasted like that. 

Wasn’t he supposed to be doing something that evening? Trying not to panic, he hastily phoned Donna. “I am so sorry I didn’t phone you last night, but I took something and it completely zonked me out.”

“Aren’t you well?” she immediately asked with deep concern. “I hope you are eating and drinking enough.”

Relief and love flooded through him. “It’s probably nothing, just a sniffle and will go away pretty soon,” he consoled her. “Are we still going to Alan’s Christmas drink tonight? It should be a laugh,” he said, and distractedly picked up a pen to fiddle with as he considered what to write about his reaction in his data collection notebook.

“Yes, it should be,” Donna readily agreed. “At least we won’t have Mandy Thompson dominating the evening like we did at Delores’ do on Thursday. But, Chris, can I ask you to do one thing?”

“What’s that?” he asked, suddenly worried.

“Don’t bring up the incident with the paint,” she pleaded.

Chris instantly laughed loudly. When they were in B&Q the week before, he had told her he was thinking of painting his lounge with tartan paint, and Donna had remarked that she didn’t know Dulux did that colour before she had realised he was having her on. “Okay, love, I will; but only if you promise to help me with the lounge once I’ve decided what colour I want.”

“That’s bribery and corruption,” she jokingly protested. “Oh alright then; you’ve twisted my arm. But hurry up and choose a bloody colour.”

He didn’t answer that, instead he arranged to meet her straight after work that evening.

  


The Red Lion was festooned in several festive pieces of decoration; or ‘tat’ as Donna insisted on calling it. Chris didn’t mind; it gave the place a cheery ambience and it was full of people he knew reasonably well now. Alan instantly stood to greet them and invited them over to three tables wedged together. Whilst Chris got his hand shook, Donna was kissed on the cheek by every single bloke there, much to his annoyance; so he kept a tight grasp on her as they sat down, making sure she sat closer to him than anyone else.

Drinks were prompted plonked down in front of them, and Donna’s stomach growled. “I’m starving,” she whispered to Chris. “Shall I see if they do food?” 

He nodded his agreement so she bounced up to the bar. Unfortunately they didn’t, so she arrived back at the table with crisps for her, Chris and an assortment for the rest of the group. “We’ll sneak off and get a proper meal,” Chris promised her.

But obviously other people had an alternative plan, and they were continuously plied with drinks to keep them there as they all swapped humorous or boastful stories about their DIY attempts. 

“What are you planning next, Donna?” one of the group asked her.

“We’re painting Chris’ lounge,” she replied without any hesitation. “I think it would look lovely with a soft purple.”

Chris instantly scoffed at that. “I don’t think so.”

Alan asked them, “When are you two making it official?”

“Making what official?” Donna queried.

Alan waved a finger between the two of them. “You two. It was obvious from the start that you would get together.”

Both Donna and Chris blushed. “I’m not sure I’d say that,” Chris blustered.

“If you don’t want Donna, I’ll have her,” one man retorted, making the others laugh.

“You wouldn’t be man enough to handle me,” Donna commented with a slight slur. “Now our Chris here…” She gave his knee a pat. “He knows his way around my plumbing, if you see what I mean.”

“You talk as though you’ve seen him naked,” another man said with glee.

“Oh, but I have,” she replied. “Don’t tell anyone, especially about what he did with my knickers.”

“Donna!” Chris practically squawked. “That was between us.”

As she agreed with him, more drinks were placed before them. “We need to celebrate the first impending Home Handyperson wedding,” Alan told the group, and he lifted up his glass. “To Chris and Donna!” 

Despite their denying protests, the whole group toasted them. By the time half past nine came around and the group started to split up to go home, Donna and Chris were almost four sheets to the wind.

“Do you want to come back and we rustle ourselves up something to eat?” he asked next to her ear. “I think we’d better get a taxi as, I don’t know about you, but I’m willing to bet I’ll have problems walking along the street.”

She smiled back at him with a matching drunken grin. “Sounds alright to me. What about whathisface?”

Chris waved his hand dramatically dismissively. “Don’t worry about him. He’s not in and not due back for days.” 

“Goodnight, you two,” someone said. “Merry Christmas.”

They both replied in the same vein, but Chris pulled Donna hastily back from another kiss attempt. The remainder of the group laughed at them. “Oh yeah, not together at all,” someone sarcastically remarked as they left the pub; but they weren’t heard within the bar.

“Taxi?” Chris queried, and then stood up, offering her a hand as he did so.

“Lead on, Macduff,” she answered him; and they almost fell out through the pub doors as they giggled together.

Alan made sure they were safely seated in a taxi before he wended his own way home; smiling with delight at them.

  
 

Still giggling, they burst through Chris’ front door and challenged each other to walk in a straight line to the kitchen. Donna managed it better than Chris did, striking a catwalk pose as she did. 

“That’s not fair,” he petulantly protested. “You’re built for balance more than I am.”

“How the hell do you get that? You’re a twig with big feet; how can you topple so easily?” she teased him.

“Well… you have extra padding with a lower centre of gravity,” he countered. “It’s logical that you’d thingy.”

She pushed him slightly, and laughed loudly when he almost fell before he held onto a kitchen worktop with a death grip. “Donna! You play dirty,” he complained. “Come here and let me show you.”

“Show me what?” she cagily wondered when he took hold of her hands.

He took a stance. “Push against me,” he ordered her. “If you manage to move me before I push you that proves you’ve got a centre of gravity.”

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Obviously, I’ve got a centre of gravity otherwise I’d never be able to control walking.”

“Stop being obstinate and just do it,” he huffed. “Ready?”

They took positions, and then pushed bodily against one another; but their hands slipped and she fell onto him, pinning him up by the fridge freezer. His arms instantly wrapped around her to stop them falling sideways, and then because he wanted to. 

This was the opportunity he had been waiting for all evening. “Do you know that you missed out kissing someone ‘Merry Christmas’ tonight?” he breathily asked, as anticipation made him bolder.

“Did I? Who was that then?” she asked, mesmerised by the dark lingering look he was giving her; willing him to take the next step.

“Me,” he answered, edging closer. “Merry Christmas, Donna.”

There was no chance to say the words back because his mouth had descended slowly onto hers as he spoke; and he kissed her. He tasted of whiskey, beer and crisps, but fortunately so did she. All she was aware of was the softness of that bottom lip as it made its way across hers, making her open to allow wet succulent kisses as they fed their desire. When their tongues met, to both slide and glide together, their bodies pressed together with a delicious frisson. 

After several minutes, he then released her mouth to nibble her earlobe, her throat, and anywhere he could reach. “Yes, oh yes,” she gasped out, drowning in the moment.

“Shall we go and sit down while we finishing eating,” he offered, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Inevitably, she swatted at his arm and then picked up their sandwiches whilst he carried their coffees.

 

She woke the following morning wondering if a lorry was reversing through her head until she realised that the sound was coming from outside. Her head was resting on something warm beneath her cheek, making her face sweat, and she cautiously lifted herself away and then snuggled down again. This always felt good.

Hang on… she wasn’t married anymore, so the naked flesh she was leaning on wasn’t Darren. Who was it? Pushing up on an arm that was half asleep, she saw the head of someone tipped back over the edge of the bed; and that someone was Chris. 

‘Chris!’ she thought with a start. He looked blissfully peaceful as he slept on, and she fondly caressed his face; getting a smile as she did so.

Sitting up, she grabbed her head to stop the room spinning. What had happened last night? Well, she could guess part of it, since they were both naked and entwined under part of the duvet. Risking opening her eyes, she saw their clothing flung about the room. Had they really been that frivolous, that abandoned? The smell of sex hung heavy about them, so there was no denying they had thrown caution to the winds in a drunken moment.

What had they done?! How stupid could she be to have fallen into bed without any precautions? And what about their relationship… had they ruined it? Could she risk seeing this in a positive light?


	9. Chapter 9

Donna crawled out of the bed by backing out, and raced to the bathroom to wash. Why couldn’t she remember much of the previous evening, and what on earth had she really done? The bitterness of spending the night with Chris and not having any memory of it, beyond a few hazy images, was hard to fight off. This should have been a wonderful moment.

As the possible consequences raced through her mind, she snuck back into the bedroom and hurriedly dressed. If she crept out would he even notice she had been there? Was that the right thing to do? Would he think she was some sort of slag now and view her differently? What was the protocol in such situations? She’d never had a one night stand and was pretty sure Chris hadn’t either. 

‘Oh Chris!’ she thought as she watched him sleep on. Why did she love him so much? And did he love her? Love her in the way she wanted him to? 

Unable to think straight, she cast a final look around the bedroom before attempting to head down into the kitchen. That was when she spotted the note propped up next to the bed on a side table by Chris’ head. Deeply curious, she picked it up, and her interest increased tenfold when she read it was addressed to her.

**_~~Dear~~ Donna,_ **

**_How could you behave in such an obscene and disgraceful way? You are MINE! I thought we had clarified this point._ **

**_I am disgusted. You shall regret taking this action, I assure you of that._ **

**_Until we meet again,_ **

**_The Doctor_ **

A cold hand gripped her heart in that instance. When had he come back and seen them? What had he seen exactly?!

The breath stuttered in her throat as she anxiously swept her gaze around the room. How incriminating was the scene before her? Erm… Who was she kidding? The clothes thrown about the room must have given away their activity if nothing else had. How could anyone not see the clues and join the dots together. 

And all the while Chris slept on, oblivious to her internal panic. All her fears now focused on the Doctor rather than a destroyed friendship or a possible baby… 

Her thoughts were instantly distracted onto the idea of a baby from the previous evening’s events. It wasn’t as though it would be impossible for her to conceive a child, even at her age; and it would certainly be a welcomed child into her life. A child formed by love; even if it was one-sided. How the hell would she cope if she became pregnant?

No. She mustn’t think about that until… unless it was a matter that had to be faced. The immediate future would feature an irate man who had picked her out as his life partner, albeit without her consent at the time; and she wasn’t exactly sure when or if she had agreed at some point. She just knew that his passion could easily morph into temper and possibly violence. There was definitely a dangerous quality about him. It was all part of the bad boy charm. 

Perhaps she could convince herself this had never happened, not in the way she thought it had. What was a sleepover between friends after all? Enough to get someone beaten up, perhaps… 

Dread filled her then. Dread for the fate Chris might face because of her, and dread as she imagined the expression on the Doctor’s face when he had discovered them asleep together; assuming of course that he had only found them sleeping. 

Holding in a sob, she flew out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Once there, two cold cups of coffee sat accusingly on the coffee table, and a fallen piece of sandwich lay on the carpet. Donna had bent to pick it up and put it in the bin when she spotted what already lay in there. Two photo frames were smashed to smithereens, and there was the ripped up remains of what she assumed had been the photos inside; except the pieces only seemed to show Rose when she dug them out and placed them together. Oh. Had the Doctor done this, or Chris?

There was no other sign that he had been there, so she scattered the pieces back into the bin, pulled out her shoes from under the settee, donned her coat and fled. Shutting the front door as quietly as she could behind her, she tried to take in a sigh of relief but it sat heavily in her chest. What should she do now?

Lifting up her wrist to view her watch, it was clear that she had just enough time to race home and change before heading into work. Coping with work would be the easy bit. It was the evening she was dreading.

  
 

Chris shifted his head and pain bloomed from his neck. What the heck had he done to cause that? He squinted in the dim light, raised a hand to rub his offended neck and licked his lips when he felt how dry they were. Shame he had woken up at that point because he’d been having a fantastic dream; just thinking about it aroused his body, and he moved experimentally. Hang on. Answering the call of an itch on his buttock, he found a naked part that should have been covered by cotton briefs or his pyjama trousers. What had he done with them?

He lifted his head to see where his pyjama trousers had gone; half expecting them to have fallen down somehow in the night, and noticed the state of the bed. What?! It looked as though a bomb had exploded there. How had that happened? And what was that mark on the sheets? 

Oh dear. The answer dawned on him when he inspected it. Did that mean he had had a wet dream? Had adolescence come late for him, technically speaking, or was this a whole new phenomenon? One thing he did know for sure; he was never getting drunk again in a pub. It took away all your memories. 

Moving cautiously, so as not to jar his neck or head, he could have sworn he smelt perfume. Sniffing deeply, he became certain that he knew that perfume; it was the one Donna often wore. His mind sought to find the name of it. He should know because he had been with her when she had bought it.

_‘Been’ being the operative word,_ an extremely grumpy voice inside his head chastised him. 

‘What are you on about?’ he thought back at the voice.

There was a sigh of exasperation in return. _Call yourself an intelligent man…! If brains were gunpowder you wouldn’t have enough to blow your hat off; you stupid half-ape._ the voice sneered. _You’ll never reach the lofty heights of the Time Lords._

Now Chris knew who exactly the voice was. ‘Perhaps I don’t want to be a Time Lord,’ he argued.

There was an answering snort of derision. _You might as well not want to breathe. I know that’s all you want: to be ME._

‘That isn’t true! I want Donna,’ he retorted.

_Well you certainly did that one, little Martian. You had her and then you lost her. But don’t worry; she’ll come running to me. They all want me in the end. And you can then disappear back into the mire that you came from._

That made Chris angry! ‘Don’t say that! I am half Doctor and half Donna!’

_And look where that got you. Your so-called girlfriend used you to get to me; just like Rose tried to. It always comes back to me,_ the voice of the Doctor crowed.

‘No! I won’t believe you.’ He clutched his head in pain. ‘She was my friend long before you appeared back on the scene.’

_As I said…_ The voice seemed to swing closer to his ear, growling low in its intensity. _As I will continue to say; she is MINE, Christopher Noble. I staked a claim on her and she will choose me over you; any time, any day._

‘Then why was she in my bed?’ he demanded to know, grasping at straws in this argument.

There was an answering smug chuckle. _You may have brought her here, but can you be sure it was you who made such sweet love to her? I think not. And she tasted divine…_

Chris screamed in abject horror as the voice purred confidently in his head; because he knew the truth. ‘Did you use my drunkenness to take over? You had no right to do that!’ he protested.

_Maybe, but I did anyway. You could barely undo your shirt buttons without my help; so I took over,_ the Doctor insisted on telling him, breathily drawing out the words to cause optimum heartache. _It was I that removed her clothing, piece by piece. I got to see, feel and kiss her pale creamy skin as it was revealed. It was I who got to fill her, and ooh did she feel good! You should have heard the sounds she was making as I fulfilled your dream; you really should have been there._

Realisation hit Chris then. ‘You deliberately excluded me! How did you manage to somehow turn my mind off?’

The Doctor mocked him in return. _Ah, have you forgotten already, poor wee Chris? You searched for a potion because you wanted to become more Time Lord; and you got your wish._ Then was a pause before the Doctor continued in a more menacing tone, _In the end you will become… well… me! Won’t that be wizard? Now take your potion._

“No!” Chris shouted out as his hand was forced towards the drawer where the bottle lay. “I won’t take it. I only promised that you could appear Saturday night.”

His fingers continued to quiver as he fought their quest.

_Take a few drops of the potion. I only need you for a short while,_ the Doctor ordered him. 

Chris shook his head in protest as he felt his resolve wane. “I refuse to.” 

_In that case, you shall keep away from Donna, do you hear me? I shall know if you disobey me because I will watch every single movement you make._

“Okay,” Chris replied regretfully; and control was regained over his body. He suppressed a whimper when he finally was able to sit up and think clearly.

The Doctor had won, and he always would.

[](http://bas-math-girl.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/2237/13677)   


  


Donna didn’t see Chris to talk to until lunchtime was almost over. “Chris!” she called out to him with a wave and went to join him. But Chris looked horrified when she did so, and she could have sworn he was trying to back away. “What’s the matter?” she asked with deep concern when she reached his side.

_Remember: say nothing,_ echoed in his head sternly.

Chris furtively averted his gaze. “Nothing. Nothing’s the matter,” he answered quietly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said hesitantly. “Apart from the hangover, obviously. I take it you are still suffering from one too.”

“Oh, you know,” he replied, waving a hand about vaguely. “Something in my head won’t leave me alone.”

“What sort of something?” she asked anxiously. ‘Here comes the put down; any moment now,’ she told herself.

_Don’t you dare!!_ the Doctor warned him. 

Chris cautiously coughed. “I erm… I’m not feeling quite myself yet. Is it still okay to come over for dinner tonight, or do you have another party to organise?”

Hoping his offhand manner was because he was still feeling fragile, she readily answered, “No, there’s no party tonight; so I’ll see you later.” 

When he moved his head to the side so that her kiss landed on his cheek, she became increasingly troubled. Did this mean he had remembered and didn’t want to; or was he trying to spare her feelings? Either way, she was stuffed, and her heart plummeted. Lifting her head as high as she could, she walked away, hoping it came off as dignified. If he didn’t want her then she would have to live with it.

Watching her walk away, Chris wanted to run after her, plead her forgiveness and declare his love loudly. But he didn’t. 

_Good boy,_ the Doctor patronised him, in both words and by mentally patting him on the head.


	10. Chapter 10

Donna tried not to think about Chris during the afternoon, but she couldn’t help it. There was too much to worry about; and one question kept returning to her mind. Why couldn’t she remember their night of passion? Admittedly she had been slightly drunk, but she hadn’t drunk _that_ much to be able to carry on but the latter part of the evening be totally obliterated. She quite clearly remembered them messing about in Chris’ kitchen. Testing her centre of gravity indeed! Who did he think he was kidding? 

All of that had been followed by him kissing her; it was definitely him who had started all that. Then they had moved to the settee… A blush crept up her cheeks at the thought. At least they had managed to eat something first before giving in to their desire to touch each other.

The next logical step had been to climb the stairs to his bedroom and explore their emotions some more. It was at that point that her memories stopped; blanketed by a hazy fog. If she pressed her mind to its limit, the last thing she knew had happened was them trying to undress.

Tears welled up. All that suppressed emotion and she didn’t recall the moment they had consummated their relationship. Why was life so unfair? It should have been the most beautiful moment; to treasure and claim her own for years to come, but all she had instead was mush! 

Did Chris remember any of it? Had his body been on autopilot too? 

Donna sniffed. It wasn’t as though she could ask him now, not with the way he had behaved towards her. Instead, he obviously regretted the whole saga; and might eventually want nothing to do with her. This would need careful steps from her if she wasn’t going to bugger everything they had built so far up. Thank god she had had the presence of mind to buy the morning after pill from Boots at lunchtime; that was one less problem to worry about. Okay, it had been with deep regret that she had taken it; but she was a single woman without many friends or family to rely upon. 

At times like these she felt completely alone.

  
 

At precisely seven thirty, Donna’s front door bell rang. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she plastered on a welcoming smile and opened the door. She let out a squeak of shock when she spotted the Doctor leaning nonchalantly against the frame.

“Hello, Donna,” he smoothly greeted her. “I hear a meal might be in the offing.”

“I erm... there might be,” she quickly replied. “I think I can stretch it to three.” Donna then ducked her head out of the door and looked around. “Where’s Chris? Did he not come with you?”

The Doctor gently pushed passed her and entered her home. “Oh, you know how unreliable Chris is. He might turn up later; if he can be bothered to.”

Donna eyed him grinning smugly at her, and gulped nervously. Bugger! She had hoped to gain some time before seeing him to explain everything. “Would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee?” she asked hesitantly.

“A drink? Come come, Donna. I think we both know you should not imbibe; especially after last night’s little fiasco,” he crooned. 

“About that, Doctor…,” she started to say, licking her lips nervously. “It wasn’t quite what you saw.”

The Doctor had stridden purposefully into her kitchen and was now stirring the pot that held a pasta sauce. “Are you sure, Donna?” he asked, not really looking at her as he added a pinch of oregano to the saucepan. He then sent a shiver of fear down her spine when he deliberately turned to look her fair and squarely in the eye. “It definitely looked like you were having sex, to me,” he said in a low voice.

She tried to stumble back, but her waist hit the kitchen worktop behind her. “I… I can’t remember,” she blurted out, unable to hide the sob within her admission. 

His eyes darkened, if that was even possible in that moment. “Can’t, or won’t?” he wondered icily.

She rapidly shook her head. “Honestly! I don’t remember getting into Chris’ bed or anything up until I woke up this morning. I suppose it could have all been completely innocent. We could have had a friendly sleepover,” she tried to reason.

He removed the saucepan from the heat, and stepped right into her personal space, grasping her around the neck with one hand as he did so. “It certainly looked friendly… more than friendly. And since when would ‘friends’ do such a thing completely naked?” he ground out the question, almost daring her to make up a feeble excuse.

“They wouldn’t,” she confessed.

The Doctor managed to step even closer, making her yelp in fear. “Then what does that make you, Donna Noble? What was it you said to me Saturday night? Oh yes; ‘I do not mess about having premarital sex’ I think it was. Are you trying to tell me that you and Chris snuck off and got married sometime during yesterday?”

“Nnnnnnno, Doctor,” she stuttered. “We were drunk; it just happened,” she argued on a whisper. “It was nothing more than an accident.”

“It didn’t seem like any accident I’ve ever seen. In fact you were positively encouraging him to bang you.” He then impersonated her voice, saying, “Oh Chris! Yes, Chris! Like that! More, more!”

All colour drained from her face. How could she explain this away, or at least calm his temper down? Perhaps a little counterattack would work. “How long did you watch us for? Are you masochistic or perverted?”

His nostrils flared in anger. Was she actually goading him? This feeling was delicious. “Long enough to know you two probably didn’t use anything,” he retorted spitefully.

“Oh!” Donna couldn’t think how to react for a moment. “Well you needn’t worry about that, as I’ve dealt with it.”

“What do you mean you’ve dealt with it?!” he demanded to know.

She answered as slowly as she could, laden with sarcasm. “I mean I went to Boots, asked the pharmacist very nicely and was handed the morning after pill.”

His expression went apoplectic. “You did what?!!!” Without thinking beyond his anger at her action (her stupid, idiotic and plan-destroying action), the Doctor raised his hand to strike her; and then stopped dramatically. He found his hand held in mid-air as he did so.

_No, Doctor! You shall not hit Donna; not now, not ever!_ Chris raged in his head. 

‘Let go of my hand! Stop spoiling my plans and making an idiot of yourself,’ the Doctor warned.

_I think you’ll find that’s MY hand, Doctor. And why should I help forward your ridiculous plans to get Donna pregnant?_

‘Why? Because Donna is my mate; I chose her as my life partner. Did you get that, Time Lord half-breed? Although I wouldn't be surprised if your feeble brain could not handle the magnitude of such a thing,’ the Doctor huffed at Chris.

_If I am so beneath you, why did you chose a human like Donna? Surely she can never be considered worth your interest?_ Chris quizzed him.

‘Are you mad?! Even you know how brilliant she is, with or without the metacrisis,’ the Doctor argued. 

Donna watched the Doctor grip his wrist with frantic desperation, seeming to be wrestling with some sort of problem as he did so. What was he doing? Since he was so preoccupied, she distanced herself from his anger, moving away from him. “Is there something wrong with you?” she risked asking after a few minutes of him seeming to play puppets with his fingers.

“I was just saying…,” he started to answer, as though they were mid-conversation about a specific topic. “Very funny,” he sarkily said to the ceiling. “I know full well what you are trying to do!”

Donna looked up at the ceiling in vain, hoping to see the reason why he was addressing it. “You do?”

“Donna!” His attention snapped back to her, and he gave a cough, clutching his throat as he did so. The little creep! He’d watered down the potion. “I erm… I need to go. Yes, that’s it. Things to do, people to see, plans to adjust. If I don’t see you beforehand, I’ll see you Saturday. Bye, love!” Throwing a quick kiss to the cheek in her direction, the Doctor practically ran out of her home.

Leaning gratefully back against the kitchen worktop, Donna could not help herself from remarking, “What the hell did that all mean?” Nor could she help trembling.

  
 

The phone rang. Donna raced to answer it and was deeply gladdened to see Chris’ number come up. “Chris? Are you okay? Where are you?” she asked anxiously.

His voice was slightly slurred as he tried to answer her questions. “I’m fine; sort of. I’m still at home. Sorry, Donna, but I must have fallen asleep as soon as I walked through the door. Is it okay to come over, or is it too late?”

She almost wanted to cry with relief. Sniffing, she told him, “It’s not too late. I saved you something to eat.”

Chris felt his heart soar. She still wanted to know him, and he had finally gained back some control from the Doctor. This could only mean things would get better from now on. “You beauty! In that case I’ll be as quick as I can.”

If he was in any doubt as to what sort of reception he would get, all of that was cast aside when she opened the door to him. He almost risked kissing her properly, but instead he went for the safer option and pecked at her cheek. When she didn’t reject him, he went to place a kiss on her lips, but she had already moved away from him and was headed into the kitchen, saying she would dish up his meal straight away. It took all his resolve to smile back at her as she anxiously chatted on. Something was definitely up with her.

Donna rambled on about her day, about the arrangements for the penultimate party the following night, about having to run around grabbing last minute things for Saturday’s big do, and her efforts to fulfil her Secret Santa gift quotient. And Chris eagerly listened to her. He loved listening to her voice, and found himself daydreaming that this was what it would be like if they moved in together; perhaps married, with a child on the way, or with a dog at the very least.

It was the last parts of his daydream that made him make the effort to clear the air between them, otherwise none of that had a hope in hell of ever happening. As it was, he waited until they were washing up before broaching the subject. “Donna, why don’t you tell me what’s really the matter?”

She almost dropped the plate she had been drying up. “You want me to talk about it? Seriously?”

Okay, he had expected her to be stunned to some extent, but this was worrying. “Yes, I do. Come on…” He forced her to put down her tea towel, took hold of her hand, and led her through to the lounge. Sitting down onto the sofa, he dragged her down next to him. “I acted off with you earlier, so I need to explain why. Plus, things have gone a bit… well…. strange between us, and I need to know what you think and feel about it all.”

She frowned at him. “How can I say what I think until you tell me why you went weird on me? That’s unfair.”

“You’re right,” he replied, and gave her hands a comforting squeeze. “When I woke up this morning I was feeling pretty good; more than good, to be honest. And then the Doctor stuck his oar in, making me regret that I ever brought him into my life.”

“He was here tonight,” she confessed. “Oh Chris,” she cried, and let him wrap his arms around her. “He frightened me.”

“It’s okay; I’m here now and not him,” he crooned softly into her hair as he held her close. “If I get my way, it will always be me instead of him.”

Donna lifted her head to ask, “What do you mean?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** The gorgeous picture at the end was created by [beachy_geek](http://beachy-geek.livejournal.com).

Chris swallowed, trying to clear the lump in his throat. What _did_ he mean exactly again…? It had been so clear a moment ago. Oh yes. He wanted to say he was madly, deeply and truly in love with her. In fact, he was desperate to make his confession; but having Donna in his arms, looking up at him with such trust, made him hesitate. How do you explain that you’ve poisoned yourself in the vain hope that the love of your life will fall for you in return? Should you be pleased that, in doing so, said love of your life was coaxed into your bed against her will and thoroughly ravished without either of you remembering it? No, that would never do.

That only left him with one option: he would have to continue lying.

“W…wh…what I mean is…” He pushed his glasses up onto his nose to try and calm himself down. “I’m here for you, Donna. Despite everything last night, I am still your friend and I’ll help you find the right path to happiness. I erm… I don’t like the idea of you having to deal with the Doctor and his moods,” he anxiously acknowledged.

Still her friend! Where did that leave her? “Are you saying this because you don’t like the Doctor, or is it something else?” Donna risked asking, hardly able to raise her voice above a whisper.

Oh God! If only he could blurt out his true feelings, let her know how much he really cared, but yet again fear held him back. There was no knowing what the Doctor would do to her if she suspected half the truth of their situation; and he couldn’t risk that until the Doctor was purged completely from his system. The next few breaths came out slowly as he released the tension in his throat. “I want you safe and healthy.” ‘I want you in my life every day from sun up to sun down. I want to spend my whole life proving how much you mean to me and how I will never be worthy of you. Nothing means anything until I have shared it with you…’ Words that went on and on in his head as he beseeched her with his eyes to love him back with equal ferocity.

“Chris?” she asked with deep concern, wrapping her arms around him in an effort to console him. His eyes seemed to be full of fear and something akin to love. It was obvious he was pleading with her to understand, but she couldn’t fathom out what exactly. Was she right in thinking he was, to a certain extent, frightened to go home to where the Doctor waited, and was he using her as some sort of smoke screen? Had that been his sole motivation in taking her into his bed? There was only one way to find out, she reasoned. “Do you want to stay the night?” she whispered into his neck.

He could have sworn his heart stopped in his chest for some nanoseconds. “Can I?” he sought desperately to confirm. “I don’t have to sleep with you… unless you want me to… but I’d understand perfectly if you’d rather not, since I suspect I rather cocked things up between us last night. Erm… not a wise choice of wording that, in hindsight…”

“Chris! Do you think you could actually finish one train of thought, please,” she begged him. “For all your babbling I have no idea if you regret sleeping with me. If you do, then I would like to hear you say so; and then we can move on.”

‘No no no no no!’ screamed through his head as he heard her unspoken question. Deliberately pulling back just enough from their embrace to hold her face tenderly between his hands, he said with great sincerity, “Any regret would only come from hurting you. I could not bear to do that.”

“Is there any chance of you telling me what you can bear to do,” she pondered. Well, it wasn’t as though things could get any vaguer, was it? If things got any further away they’d be out the door.

“No; but I’ll show you.”

What should have been a perfectly fine kiss suddenly became a science experiment when he noticed the exact level of progesterone in her body. Something was off, as if… Oh no! The Doctor had artificially kept her on the brink of ovulation. If he gave into the desire his body was shouting at him, it was almost inevitable that he’d make her pregnant; and he was loathe to do that without her making a conscious decision to be so.

Panting heavily, he broke away to suggest, “I’d better go before we do something dangerous again… I mean, before I do something dangerous again. I’m sorry that I lost control last night.”

“Chris, it’s called being drunk. Unfortunately, thousands of people do it on a regular basis.”

“Maybe; but they aren’t all me. I have certain responsibilities I have to worry about.”

“Who elected you president of the world?” she teased.

“President? I was hoping I was king,” he playfully retorted.

She grabbed his head then, forcing him to kiss her properly, headily, as their tongues and breath mingled. One more minute of doing this couldn’t hurt, could it, he reasoned. He wasn’t going to do anything more than this… apart from maybe push her back into the cushions.

“Let’s go to bed,” she offered after some shared kisses.

“Yes, let’s,” he murmured in answer.

“No pressure, no demands,” she added, just in case.

He smiled in relief. “As long as I get to hold you all night, I’ll be happy. We’ll save everything else.”

In unison, they got up and headed for her bedroom, hand in hand, glowing with expectations and grateful for anything. For now their love would be unspoken but it would be treasured and displayed through gentle touches.

  
 

It was agony to go a couple of days without seeing her. Boy did he have it bad, Chris realised. It had taken every ounce of his willpower to stop himself from invading her workspace and sweep her off to the nearest bed. There was even an alternative plan of using a relatively close and comfortable sofa. Not that the Doctor had done much to stop that train of thought since that night…

It irked him endlessly to know that both he and the Doctor were united in some part of their plan; except he wasn’t hell-bent on getting Donna pregnant and dependent upon him like the Doctor was. Instead, he was willing to let her make every single choice that affected her life.

Saturday night could not come quickly enough for him, because Donna would be freed from running around organising Pete Tyler’s social life and she would be returned to his willing attentions. The whole of the Christmas holiday spread out before them, with only each other to spend that time with. If he had his way, all of that time would be spent enjoying numerous bouts of sexual bonding.

Hang on…! He shook his head to clear his mind of those thoughts because they certainly didn’t belong to him. In fact, those sorts of thoughts had never belonged to him, even though they had insidiously crept into his conscious mind since Tuesday night; which meant that the Doctor was responsible for poisoning his mind in such a way. It hadn’t all been desire after all.

His phone persistently ringing halted his train of thought, and he was ecstatic to see it was Donna ringing him. “Hello gorgeous!” he readily crooned into the mouthpiece. “What can I do for you, bearing in mind that I have to take some woman to a Christmas party this evening?”

She giggled on the other end of the line. “That’s why I was phoning, to tell you the truth. I was making sure you were still taking me, otherwise I need to hastily find some other sap, I mean, gentleman.”

“Just you try stopping me. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you in that new dress of yours; and truth be told, I’m rather eager to see you out of it too,” he leered down the phone.

Her heart beat faster. “Easy, tiger! We don’t want you to peek too early tonight”

There was a slight scoffing sound. “There is no danger of that whatsoever. I have every intention of seeing this through to the bitter end. Well, when I say ‘bitter’ I’m expecting the end to be extremely sweet”

This wasn’t like him to say that sort of thing. “Who are you and what have you done with Chris?” she suddenly asked.

_I’m the Doctor!_

“Oh erm… just some bloke,” he anxiously answered. Where had that come from? He’d been carefully monitoring where and when the Doctor might try to appear, and he thought he had a clear handle on the situation.

_You thought wrong,_ the Doctor gleefully crowed. _I’ve been hiding for days, and you didn’t even realise that fact. Do you remember those bottles of milk you bought on Tuesday? Try looking again._

‘You didn’t?!’ Chris gasped in shock, examining the glass of milk in his hand with a cautious eye.

_Oh yes I did!_ the Doctor sing-songed in his head. _I’ve been slowly dosing you up; keeping the dosage nicely stabilised. Time to go and get Donna, I think. It’s show time!_

  
 

Their journey to the Torchwood Christmas party in a hotel conference room was unusually silent, but Donna put it down to Chris being nervous about whatever Mr Tyler had in store for him. He hardy said two words to her between getting in the limo Clarissa had organised for them to when they sat down at their designated table; and when he did it was as though he was talking to somebody else. It was almost with relief that she heard him remark, “I’m just going to check on something for a minute. I won’t be too long.”

Ten minutes later he sat himself back down next to her, and she turned to comment on how quick he’d been when she noted it wasn’t Chris seating himself beside her but the Doctor. She blurted out the first thought that came into her head. “What are you doing wearing Chris’ new suit?”

“This old thing?” he mused as he tugged at the cloth of his sleeves. “Who cares what I’m wearing when we can spend our time admiring you?”

Donna felt herself blush. “I’m sure that’s not true,” she spluttered.

The Doctor leaned in close, and breathily told her, “I for one have every intention of spending my evening detailing every nuance of your body; but for now I only have one question. Would you care to dance with me?” He stood and held out his hand in invitation, almost daring her to turn him down.

She found herself automatically taking his offered hand. “Where did Chris go?” she faintly asked.

“Donna, I don’t care as long as I have you in my arms; and neither do you,” he remarked, and crushed her body against him as they moved gracefully around the dancefloor for several musical numbers. “I even have a little surprise for you,” he warmly promised her, speaking low in her ear.

“You do?” she murmured.

“Oh yes, my darling. I’ve procured us a room upstairs so that we don’t have to wait until the end of the evening. Instead we can sneak off and have some fun all on our own. Say ‘thank you, Doctor’,” he ordered her.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she immediately answered, to his satisfaction.

Frowning momentarily as he caught sight of Rose with Pete across the room, he briefly kissed Donna’s lips. “It’s time we were heading upstairs, and I got my reward.”

Ignoring Rose’s startled expression and Donna’s blank look, he released his tight hold on Donna’s body to place a possessive hand around her wrist and triumphantly led her out into the hotel lobby.

  
[](http://bas-math-girl.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/2237/20354)  



	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I got permission from [dreamerbee](http://dreamerbee.tumblr.com) to use one or two of her superb illustrations, and the screencap belongs to [beachy_geek](http://beachy-geek.ivejournal.com).

As they passed several other guests, the Doctor politely greeted them with the words, “Good evening.” It didn’t pay to draw any unwanted attention in their direction; not when he was so close to his goal.

He managed to contain his excitement as they stood patiently waiting for the lift to arrive. Once they entered through the doors, he instructed Donna to push the button for the twelfth floor. “We’re in room 1214,” he told her conversationally.

Not that Donna was capable of replying much beyond the bare basics of polite conversation yet. He would remedy that once they were safely within the confines of the hotel room. It fitted his plans if she was compliant but he didn’t want to make love to a complete robot. Where was the fun in that? None, considering he wanted her to scream out his name in the throes of passion just like she had cried out Chris’s name earlier in the week. That time around he had pretended to be Chris, but this time he could be totally himself and earn the response in her body.

Using the key card he had picked up from reception, he swiftly let them into the room and set about making the room more pleasant for his purposes. “Would you care for a drink?” he asked Donna once he had turned on all the low lights in the room, giving the place a cosy ambience.

She still looked slightly dazed, but that would soon pass after he had brought her out of her trance. All she had managed to do was give a slight shake of her head when his lips were upon her, forcing her to step back and fall onto the large bed that took up much of the space in the room.

They landed softly on masses of bedding that cushioned their fall. “Oh Donna!” he happily groaned. “Alone at last, to do as we please.”

The Doctor’s hand started on her knee and gradually made its way up her thigh, below the hem of her dress, sliding onwards until his fingertips stroked her through the front of her knickers. Donna immediately bucked, both in shock and indignation; breaking the spell he had finely woven.

“What the bloody hell do you think you are doing, Sunshine?!” she yelped as she pushed him away.

He grabbed both of her wrists and pulled her bodily back to him. “I am enjoying an intimate moment with my potential wife. Why are you arguing about this?” he answered moodily. Not that he was really angry with her; he loved it when she fought him back. It added so much more to the situation and he fancied goading her a little bit further.

“Why? You dumbo! In contrast to what you might have been told about me, I do not mess about having sex with just anybody,” she testily told him.

“Good! Neither do I!” he almost cried back. “In fact I am very particular. Now where were we…?”

She pushed against him again, and wriggled desperately as he continued to hold her wrists. “Oh no you don’t! I won’t be party to this,” she ground out through gritted teeth.

He lifted her wrists above her head and brought them nose to nose with each other on the bed. “I won’t repeat myself. When I say I won’t have sex, I mean exactly that. I will not do anything beyond petting. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Doctor,” she automatically responded.

Good! That was exactly what he wanted to hear from her as they played this little game of innocence. He then rubbed his nose along her jawline. “I’m not saying that I don’t fancy the idea of us making love, right here right now; but I am prepared to wait until you are legally mine.”

Inevitably she scoffed at that. “Good luck with waiting, mate! I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Not only will you believe it, you will experience it for yourself,” the Doctor promised, releasing her wrists and he then trailed his fingers down her arm, making her squirm at the ticklish sensation. Ignoring that, his hand travelled further down to cup her breast, gently squeezing her soft flesh.

Any protest Donna would have made was swallowed by his mouth as he moulded his lips onto hers, moving in seductive sweeps until he encouraged her to open up and let his tongue in. Shifting his weight, he forced her to lie back on the bed beneath him so that he could continue to kiss her passionately and knead her breast whilst trailing his other hand back towards her knickers. His intention was to make her beg him to take her body; and he could hardly wait to hear her soft moans.

Desire spiked through her, making her blindly reach out and rub her hand over the front of his trousers. “Oh yes!” he groaned happily, and helped her tug at the tails of his shirt to get to his chest.

As he whipped off his tie, she ripped opened his shirt. That was the precise moment she noticed the St Christopher around his neck. It almost swung into her face as she took in the unusual design, the words; the locket component. The sight reminded her of only one thing.

She attempted to sit up and away from him with a start. “What are you doing wearing Chris’s St Christopher?” she angrily demanded.

“It’s not his,” the Doctor answered petulantly. “It’s mine!” He then rolled them so that the pendant couldn’t continue to distract her, and her assets could fall into his hands.

“No it isn’t. I’d know that one anywhere,” she insisted. “Well?! How do you explain the fact you’ve nicked that St Christopher?”

There was a huff of anger. “Of course it’s mine, you stupid woman. It was given to me by my mother the last time I saw her alone,” the Doctor replied, his irritation with having to explain himself evident in every facial expression. “She gave it to me to remember her by.”

That was almost exactly the same thing Chris had told her when she had discovered his St Christopher; but he hadn’t said he had a brother. Instead he had used the words ‘related on his father’s side’, so that only left… “You’re both the same person!” she gasped in realisation as the thought clicked into place.

He scowled back at her and then slowly clapped a couple of times. “Give the lady a putty medal!” he said sarcastically. “I’m not secretly Clark Kent but you’d think people could see beyond a pair of glasses and a change of hair style! Sheesh, you’ve been thick.”

She slapped him hard around the face as he lay beneath her. “What have you done with Chris, you bastard? Give him back!”

He rubbed his cheek and grinned slyly back at her. “Shan’t.”

“The hell you will; if you know what’s good for you,” she threatened. “I’ll stab you through the heart with a wooden stake if I have to.”

“Donna, I am not a vampire,” he said with a great deal of exasperation. “I have merely taken a potion.”

“Oh!” She shrugged sheepishly. “I should have noticed the lack of twinkling. Would a crucifix work?”

“That’d still be vampires,” he pointed out helpfully. “And I’m sure that… if you wanted to… you could work out how you could erm…”

Donna stared down at him in shock as his features altered subtly to show Chris now underneath her. She couldn’t explain how she knew exactly apart from the expression in his eyes. “Chris!” she cried and threw herself down onto his chest in gratitude. “Oh Chris!”

Chris reached into his pocket and drew out his glasses. Donning them, he soothed a hand down her back. “You were right; the Doctor is basically me…”

Donna pushed up to view him closely. “Let me get this right; the Doctor is some sort of alter ego that’s full of confidence and charm. Why was he bothering with me when he could have had any young nubile blonde of his choosing?”

He gulped nervously. “Because I wanted you,” he answered simply, not wanting to say more.

“Are you saying it’s a case of ownership? That doesn’t make sense,” she admitted.

“Not ownership, he wants to mate with you,” Chris supplied.

She mulled this over. “He wants to get me pregnant… Okay, but I still don’t get what the point is, considering he chose me.”

Chris huffed. “Donna, having a child would tie you to him for life. You’d be his for ever more in his eyes.”

  


No, she still couldn’t get her head around this. “Why would he want to do that when he could chase after any bit of skirt?”

He laughed hollowly. “Can’t you see?! He loves you. The Doctor loves you so much he’d do anything to keep you by his side.”

“He does? Anything?! Like form another self to take over the job for him, perhaps,” she mused.

“Oh!” Chris went bright red. “Yes, that’s more than likely.”

“What are you really saying, Chris? Tell me how the Doctor came into being.” She waited expectantly for an answer.

He cleared his throat. “I erm… I made a potion to become more of a Time Lord, so that you’d be impressed…” His voice petered out.

“What’s a Time Lord?”

“My father was one. They’re an ancient race from Gallifrey who kept the time lines pure, among other things”

“And your mum? Was she a Time Lord too?” Donna wondered.

He shook his head. “No, only partially; mainly. She was human until I came along and changed her,” he replied.

She considered him thoughtfully. “So you are part alien then. All those rumours were true.” Taking in his surprise, she added, “You turn up out of the blue with Mr Tyler’s family and expect no one to gossip about you? Do be serious! Since I started being friends with you I’ve had loads of people warn me about possible alien stuff.”

His eyes widened further. “Does this mean you don’t mind? About the not being completely human part…?”

“Of course not!” she answered confidently. “I was attracted to you, not your bloody parents. As for the potion malarkey, well, I’m not sure why you bothered, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like certain aspects of the Doctor. I’m assuming taking that potion is a bit like getting drunk and lowering your inhibitions.”

“Slightly… just a bit,” he confessed.

“Here comes the million dollar question,” she announced hesitantly. “Since you didn’t make a move on me until you took the potion, does that mean that it acted like some sort of Dutch courage, or can you only get it up when you’re the Doctor?”

There was no way he could answer that and look directly at her. “I had no problem with physical things; but I was frightened I’d ruin things by even kissing you,” he strained out.

_Say the words,_ the Doctor urged him. _Grab her and tell her what she means to you; to us!_

“What’s the problem?” she asked anxiously when she saw him blinking desperately.

He took a deep breath. Could he say it? _BLOODY TELL HER OR I WILL TAKE OVER AGAIN!_

That decided it for him. “I did all this because I love you, Donna,” he declared. “I wanted you to love me back and I didn’t know how else to make you want me.” There! It was out in the open; finally.

_About bloody time!_ There was a slow handclap in his mind.

Donna clasped a hand over her mouth in shock, and then gradually it brought it down to allow herself to speak. “You did all that creeping about, scaring me half to death, doing some sort of weirdo mind trick to get me into bed because you love me? That has to take the biscuit in chat up lines.” She let out a pent up sigh and then slapped him hard across the shoulder. “You silly sod! Didn’t you notice that I was heartbroken when you showed me the photos in your lounge?”

_Told you!_ the Doctor crowed in his ear.

‘Sod off!’ Chris chastised him as he reached up and kissed Donna languidly.

“What about the Doctor?” she asked anxiously when they broke for air. “Is he coming back?”

He guided her lips back to him. “I have the feeling we won’t be seeing much of him at all.”

The Doctor seethed quietly in the background. He knew when Chris was likely to let him out; and he’d wait for his moment of rare freedom. For now, he could enjoy the show.

  
 

Three months later the phone rang, and Chris ran down the stairs to answer it, but changed his mind to sit anxiously on the stairs listening to the answer machine to deal with it instead. He smiled when the voice turned out to be Donna leaving a message.

“I know you are worrying that I love the Doctor, and he does have this whole sexy vibe going on; but I love you Chris. I love you a heck of a lot more. So call me, please, before I die of old age. I miss you.”

He grabbed up the phone and told her with delight, “I’m on my way so stop worrying. I’ll see you at the church in half an hour.”

“Have you got the bottle in your jacket?” she asked.

“Right here,” he answered, patting the pocket where it sat. “The Doctor will be on call to deal with the speeches, but tonight will be all me.”

There was a giggle at the other end of the line. “I love you, Doctor Christopher Noble,” she purred at him.

“And I love you, almost-Mrs Donna Noble. Now get to the church!” he ordered her.

There was a ceremony to deal with. One that involved a guard of honour provided by Alan and their classmates armed with power tools, a wedding cake designed by Delores, and a buffet provided by their cookery mates.

Picking up his keys, he practically ran out of the door and towards his future.


End file.
